


Someone Special

by motherbearof3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Canon Compliant to a Point, Divorced Hermione, Domestic Violence, F/M, Fluff, Implied spousal rape, Redeemed Malfoys, Ron is an ass, Second marriage, Slow Burn, Step child, Threats of Violence, single mom Hermione, threats of violence against a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:09:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29850978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Getting back on her feet after an ugly divorce and being a single parent isn't easy, but Hermione is doing her best. When Lucius Malfoy becomes more than her employer, will she have a chance at a happily ever after for herself and her daughter?
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley (past)
Comments: 73
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had an inspiration the other day when I was thinking about my own life. My mom divorced my biological father when I was a baby and married again when I was four years old, to the only father I ever knew. Here is a Lumione twist on that premise, because we all enjoy Ron being an ass and Lucius coming to the rescue. The rating may change, depending on how lemony things get between our pair, but I'll note that when it does. In the meantime, enjoy a kinder, gentler but always sexy Lucius, a slightly damaged Hermione and a sweet, adorable Rose.
> 
> Hugs and thanks to astrangefan for her grammar brain and helping with feedback!

Rose’s Grandma Granger used to get what she called ‘Look Books’ in the post. Catalogs full of everything from toys to pots and pans. Most of them were overpriced and cheaply made. As a child Rose liked to turn the colorful, glossy pages, sometimes marking an item that caught her eye. She’d use a marker and carefully circle something she’d like for Christmas or a birthday gift. 

After she went to Hogwarts, she saw her Muggle grandparents less, but there was still the stack of Look Books when she visited; sharing space on the coffee table with National Geographic and the Radio Times, and she could never resist a quick flip through as they waited to be called to the dinner table. But once when she was really young, she saw a quote in a picture frame with a space on the other side showing a photo of a little boy on a man’s shoulders: **_Anyone can be a Father, but it takes someone SPECIAL to be a Dad._ ** It would be a few more years before she really understood what that meant and how it applied to the wizard who would be the only man she would ever call Dad, even though she didn’t have a drop of his blood in her veins.

Hermione Granger married Lucius Malfoy when Rose was four years old. She’d divorced Ron Weasley when her daughter was still too young to even remember the man whose DNA gave her the fiery red hair that curled like her mother’s and her blue eyes. It was an ugly affair. The Weasleys went from a family that had taken her in as one of their own before she was even a teenager, to one that she didn’t even get a Christmas card from, let alone an invitation to visit the Burrow. But what had started out as childhood sweethearts fulfilling what everyone said they’d seen coming turned into something that forced Hermione to flee the magical world and live with her parents. When Rose’s biological father was mentioned during her childhood, all her mother would say was, “He wasn’t a very nice man.” Rose, being as brilliant as her mother, knew not to press for more information.

Mother and daughter lived with the Grangers for a couple of years before Hermione, realizing she would be better able to support them with a job in the magical world versus Muggle. Smart only took you so far, and passing N.E.W.T.’s with flying colors couldn’t even get her a job asking people if they wanted chips with their meal. Working at the Ministry was out. Ron still worked there, as did Harry. She’d kept a casual friendship with Harry, but he was married to Ginny after all and she didn’t want to make him have to choose between his wife and her. She’d never told him the things Ron had done. As far as everyone believed, she was to blame for the dissolution of their marriage, and was a bad person for keeping Rose from her father. Not that Ron ever asked to see her; nor would Hermione allow it if he had.

Divorcee or not, Hermione was still the brightest witch of her age, and the Ministry for Magic wasn’t the only place to work in the magical world. 

“Longbottom Industries?” she read aloud one morning as she poured over the hiring listings in the Prophet and Quibbler while Rose sat in her highchair eating dry cereal puffs. 

The company specialized in potions and herbology and the advert was for individuals to fill positions in an administrative pool that various departments could pull from as needed. It was a little below her qualifications, but as she had no experience doing anything else, it couldn’t hurt to apply, she told the toddler. Ron had made it very clear he expected her to be a stay-at-home-witch like his mother, with his dinner ready when he came home every night. In the beginning Hermione had been okay with that. The romance of being a housewitch and all. Using magic, it was easy to keep a house and make meals. She had time to read books for enjoyment; something she hadn’t had a lot of time to do their last few years in school. About the time she started talking about getting a job, she fell pregnant and Ron put paid to those notions, saying she needed to stay home with the baby. At least for a year. And again, the blush of all things new having to do with being pregnant and having a baby made her not mind so much.

The next day was her mother’s off day from her parents’ dental clinic, so she left Rose with her and went in to apply for the job. When the whispers made their way from the hiring office to Neville’s that Hermione Granger was in the building, her old school chum appeared in the doorway with a happy smile on his face and a hug. Then he ushered her to his office and offered tea, asking how she’d been. An hour later, she left with a position in the admin pool. Neville wanted to put her in charge of it entirely, but Hermione insisted she needed to work her way up, not simply be placed over others already there based on her name and reputation.

What she learned on her first day at Longbottom Industries, was that while Neville’s name was on the letterhead, he was only one of three behind the company’s success in potions and herbology research. Draco Malfoy, being as gifted in potions as Neville was in herbology, headed the potions side of the company and his father, Lucius was the one who had put up the funds to start the business and served as the chief operating wizard. But neither one of them wanted the Malfoy name associated with it. They preferred to stay in the background and quietly attempt to redeem themselves. Hermione knew only about the Malfoys from what she’d read in the papers since leaving Hogwarts. Draco married Astoria Greengrass and they had a son who was the same age as her Rose and Harry’s Albus. The senior Malfoys had gotten divorced and Narcissa had moved in with her sister, Andromeda. Together, the two were raising Teddy Lupin and working to increase awareness of Lycanthropy and children orphaned during the war. Lucius had done a stint in Azkaban and was now living quietly in the magical part of London, while Draco and his family lived in the renovated Malfoy Manor.

Hermione settled into her new job, being called to take notes at meetings or floo calls, helping with a new filing system and after she’d been there a few weeks was summoned by Draco to help him decipher some runes in an ancient potions book he’d found. She discovered her childhood bully had matured with age and fatherhood; something she couldn’t say for her ex-husband. They worked companionably on the runes for more than a month before the whole book was translated. The former Gryffindor wasn’t looking forward to returning to the admin pool and taking meeting notes. When she got to work the following day, her supervisor told her she was to report to Mr. Malfoy’s office. Mr. Lucius Malfoy.

“Bloody hell,” she thought, “he’s probably figured out Neville hired me and I’ve been working with Draco and he’s going to sack me.”

The door to Lucius’ office was closed and she knocked lightly.

“Come,” said a slightly muffled voice.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Hermione muttered, before turning the knob and pushing the wooden door open.

The man seated at the desk was hidden behind a newspaper. A Muggle newspaper, Hermione noted with surprise and thought maybe she might get to keep her job after all.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Malfoy?” She said. 

The newspaper flapped and was folded in half, revealing the former Death Eater and Hermione got her second surprise of the morning. Third, if you counted being sent there to begin with. Gone were the long signature platinum locks the Malfoy patriarch had favored throughout her childhood and adolescence. Instead of getting lighter and greyer with age, it was getting darker, with lighter streaks. It was also cut short, in the styles favored by the actors that looked out at her from the pages of her mother’s Radio Times. It suited him, she decided quickly, and drew attention to his eyes. They were the same shade as Draco’s, although a bit more on the blue side, and were magnified a bit by the reading glasses perched on his nose. His suit was stylish and expensive, although without the matching cloak hanging on a nearby coat rack, it could pass as anything worn by a high end solicitor in downtown Muggle London. He looked at her over the tops of his glasses before removing them and smiling. Not the supercilious smirk that had been aimed at her in Flourish and Blotts prior to her second year at Hogwarts, but a warm, sincere smile that had her returning one of her own.

“Miss — I’m sorry, is it still Weasley, or are you back to Granger?” he asked.

“It was never Weasley. I hyphenated when I was married to Ronald and dropped it after the divorce. So yes, Granger is fine,” she replied.

“Very good. Please, sit down.”

Lucius indicated the nearby chair and she sat down on the edge, crossing her legs at the ankle.

“Tea?”

She nodded and he filled a tea cup that was near her on his desk and then topped off his own. 

“Sugar?”

Hermione shook her head. “No thank you, black is fine.”

The wizard nodded approvingly. After a sip of his own, he spoke.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve asked you here. I understand you were a great help to Draco the last few weeks. I feel your skills are being wasted in the admin pool.”

“One has to start somewhere, Mr. Malfoy,” she said with a small smile. “This is the first job I’ve had since, well, ever really. Ron never wanted me to work. My daughter and I have been living with my parents, but I’m even less qualified to work in the Muggle world than I am in the wizarding one.”

“What do you know about computers, Miss Granger? And please, call me Lucius.”

Six months later, Longbottom Industries had a PC in every office. It had taken Hermione a while to find a brand that could be made magic-compatible, but fortunately she discovered Seamus Finnegan had shifted his talents from pyrotechnics to electronics and was hired to head an IT department because electronic devices in a building full of witches and wizards required constant tweaking to keep them working correctly. 

Once the computer project was completed, Lucius pulled her from the admin pool permanently, making her his, Draco’s and Neville’s assistant. She managed their calendars, travel plans and correspondence. That was when Hermione decided it was time to move her and Rose out of her parents. She found a small, ground floor flat within walking distance of work that had a small patio where she could have a container garden. Losing her parents as childcare for Rose wasn’t even a problem since Astoria had gotten her father-in-law to create a nursery program at the company. It wasn’t a completely altruistic plan; she wanted Scorpius to attend and make friends, not be sheltered like she and Draco had been until they went to Hogwarts.

One morning as she was dropping off Rose, Hermione ran into Astoria, who was doing the same with Scorpius. Since Astoria was a few years younger, Hermione didn’t know her well, and she invited her for a cup of tea before work. The two witches began meeting for tea in the mornings, sharing tales of mothering toddlers. A few weeks later, Hermione was frazzled, running late and dashed into the building with barely time to spare. Astoria was just leaving the nursery as the other witch arrived and noticed her harried disposition.

“Go get your tea,” she told her. “I’ll take Rosie in.”

“You’re a love,” replied Hermione, giving her daughter a kiss. “Mummy will see you at lunch. Have fun today.”

She rushed upstairs to the offices she shared with the three executives, almost running into Lucius. He grasped her arms to head off the collision.

“Hermione, you’re not going to get docked house points if you’re a few minutes late,” he gently chided.

“I’m sorry, it was a rough morning. I slept in, Rosie didn’t want to cooperate --” she broke off. Lucius Malfoy didn’t want to hear about her problems.

“Toddlers seldom do,” he allowed with a smile. “Go get some tea and take a breath.”

Hermione found Astoria waiting in the kitchen, a cup ready for her. She took a large sip, letting the warmth sooth her nerves.

“Thanks.”

“Bad morning?”

“Not so much bad as a dream I had before I woke up late had me distracted,” Hermione admitted. “And normally that wouldn’t bother me, but --”

“Nightmare? Draco still has them,” Astoria confided.

Hermione shook her head. 

“No, this wasn’t a bad dream. Just odd. I dreamed I --” she hesitated, and lowered her voice, not that there was anyone around them. “I dreamed I married Lucius!”

Astoria’s eyes widened and then she smiled, before laughing, making Hermione join in.

“Right? Ridiculous, isn’t it? I don’t know where that came from!”

She took one last drink from her cup. 

“I need to get to work. Thanks for taking Rose this morning and for the tea.”

“I’ll walk with you. I have to talk to Draco,” Astoria said, linking arms with Hermione. Then she added, “But you know, Lucius wouldn’t be a bad catch.”

“Don’t you think he’s too old?”

“Pssht. Age is nothing. Draco is older than me.”

“Not that much.”

“Age doesn’t matter for witches and wizards,” Astoria waved her other hand. “He’s changed a lot since the war. He’s great with Scorpius. And he’s quite fit. You should see him in swimming shorts. What? He comes to the Manor to use the pool and we went on vacation together last year. If that’s what Draco is going to look like at his age, I’ll be a happy witch.”

Astoria’s arguments weren’t helping Hermione’s mental state. The fact that Lucius Malfoy was attractive and a different wizard is what contributed to her distraction when she woke up from the dream of her standing on a beach holding hands with him and reciting vows at sunset.

“It was just a dream, Tori,” Hermione assured her friend as they parted. “I’m sure the last thing he is interested in is starting over with a witch who has a child.”

But that didn’t stop her from watching Lucius with his grandson when she picked up Rose at lunch time. The wizard was sitting on the floor in the care center, jacket discarded and shirtsleeves rolled up, playing with the toddler. Not something she ever expected to see from the former follower of the Dark Lord and she remembered her own words when she and Harry had testified at both Draco and his father’s trials: _“The Malfoys are deserving of an opportunity for redemption. Who are we to deny someone a second chance?”_ Maybe that held true for herself as well, Hermione thought. She’d been turning down men who’d asked her out for close to a year, telling herself she didn’t need to get involved in another relationship; that she and Rose were perfectly fine on their own.

Around the time of Rose’s third birthday, the two of them came down with the flu. Hermione refused to allow her mother to come and care for them, telling her she didn’t need to be taking it back to her dental patients and they would be fine. On the third day, Jean Granger left a large container of soup on her daughter’s doorstep, along with Rose’s favorite juice, two boxes of tissues and a new book for each of them. Hermione spoke to her mother through the door and promised to try and eat the soup. But before she could open it and retrieve the package once the woman had gone, Rose woke with a coughing fit and Hermione hurried to her room. Once that had subsided, her little nose wiped and fever sweat dampened pyjamas changed, she got the toddler settled in front of the telly with an animated movie and a spill-proof cup of juice. Then she returned to her front door to get what her mother had left. To her surprise, she found Lucius Malfoy on her stoop, holding the reusable tote bag from her mother’s favorite grocery store, hand raised in preparation to knock.

“Lucius!” Hermione gasped, clutching her sweater closed. Both to cover the tshirt she’d been wearing for two days and to keep out the January cold.

“I heard you were ill,” he said. “You haven’t been at work.”

“Flu,” she said, taking two steps back. “Both Rosie and I.”

As if on cue, the toddler began coughing. 

Without waiting for an invitation, the wizard stepped inside, put the bag on the floor and removed his coat. 

“Go run your shower, Hermione. As hot as it will go. She needs to breathe in the steam,” he ordered.

“Yes, I’ve been doing that,” she said.

“You poor love,” Lucius said to Rose, picking her up from the couch. She didn’t know him but went willingly into his arms, letting him pat her back as she continued to cough.

“Careful, if she coughs too hard she gags and --”

Before she could finish the sentence, the child vomited on his jumper. Cashmere, no doubt, Hermione thought with a wince.

“I’m so sorry, Lucius. Here, let me take her.”

“Nothing a little magic can’t handle,” he assured her, pulling his wand from his pocket and cleaning himself and the now crying Rose. “Now go start the shower.”

The wizard sat atop the closed toilet with the toddler on his lap, showing her the picture book her grandmother had sent, in the room filled with steam from the shower, with, Hermione suspected, a little bit of magical enhancement. She watched with astonishment as the hair at the nape of his neck curled from the dampness, and also the ease with which he interacted with her daughter. 

When he deemed they were done, he dried her and his damp clothes and said, “Have you given her any Pepper-Up?”

“She’s too little. Besides, I don’t have any. I don’t like the way it makes me feel, so I don’t keep any in the house,” Hermione explained.

“Hermione, you’ve worked for us for almost a year and you don’t know we’ve marketed a paediatric version?” 

Lucius reached into his pocket and removed a vial with a dropper top.

“But I suspected as much, so I brought some with me. She’s three now, yes? Three drops and a nice nap and you’ll be feeling right as rain, Princess.”

He pressed a kiss to Rose’s flushed forehead and the toddler laid her head on his shoulder. Hermione clenched her jaw to keep it from falling open. She administered three drops of the sweet smelling potion to her daughter, waiting for it to be spat back out, but she swallowed it like it was her favorite juice.

“We modified the flavour,” Lucius told her. “It adapts to whatever their favorite is. If the child likes cherry, they taste cherry; strawberry, then strawberry; and so on. It was Draco’s idea. Scorpius got sick when he was less than a year old and he decided there needed to be something that was safe to give young children.”

“Mummy,” Rose said, holding out her arms. “Rock me, Mummy.”

“She’s feeling sleepy already,” he said, handing her off to Hermione. “Go put her to bed. I’ll heat up the soup that looked to be in that bag.”

It didn’t take long for Rose to fall asleep on her mother’s lap as they sat in the old wooden rocking chair that had been Hermione’s mother and grandmother before. But the witch kept rocking, thinking about the wizard who had shown up at her door and who was now, she could hear, opening and closing cupboards in her kitchen. They were closer than typical employers/employees were but she was shocked that he would go to these lengths to make sure she was okay. And the care with which he handled Rose! Ron never helped when their daughter had been sick. He barely changed a nappy. Yet the wizard whom she had always seen meticulously dressed didn’t bat an eye at being vomited on. The subject of her thoughts appeared in the doorway.

“I thought maybe you fell asleep with her,” he said with a smile, and Hermione noticed for the first time, how his smile filled his whole face, and even the lines around his eyes accentuated his expression.

“Almost,” she admitted, standing up with the now sleeping Rose in her arms, and putting her in her toddler bed.

Lucius was taking in the small bedroom that he assumed was the child’s, but clearly was shared by mother and daughter, as there was also a single bed in the room as well. Hermione stood and turned to face him.

“The soup is hot. It smells delicious. Who left it for you?”

“My mother. I wouldn’t let her come in and take care of us for fear of getting sick herself and taking it to their patients. They’re dentists,” she added. “They care for --”

“Teeth, yes, I’m aware,” his eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you freshen up and join me?”

He turned and left the room as if it was his house and she the visitor.

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser and cringed. 

“Bloody hell,” she whispered.

The t-shirt beneath her oversized sweater that was doing double duty as a robe was stained with Rose’s juice, tea she’d made for herself the day before and oh yes, there was some snot from her daughter’s nose. At least her leggings were clean. She’d pulled them on that morning when she changed knickers. Her hair had been pulled back in a ponytail but most of her curls had escaped and were sticking out at random. Her face was blotchy and nose red and dry from her own illness.

Hermione needed a shower, but that would have to wait. Pulling off the sweater, she yanked the t-shirt off over her head, making her hair worse. At least she was wearing a bra, but she didn’t remember when she’d put it on. A clean t-shirt and she ducked into the bathroom to wash her face and attempt to re-contain her hair. Some lotion on her face and balm on her chapped lips and she put her sweater back on.

“Good enough,” she muttered.

Her own congestion had lessened enough that she could smell her mother’s soup as she entered the tiny room that was her kitchen. Thank goodness she’d used a bit of magic to tidy up earlier, Hermione thought. At the table that was barely big enough for her and Rose, let alone two adults, a place was set with a steaming bowl of soup, a plate with thick slices of bread -- had her mother sent that too? -- and a mug that she assumed contained tea; also steaming. Hermione’s stomach growled, reminding her how long it had been since she ate actual food. Rose hadn’t even wanted her favorite soup from a tin, with noodles shaped like princesses, so she’d eaten what the toddler had: plain biscuits, a bit of toast, some dry O shaped cereal.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, sitting down in her chair and inhaling over the soup. The steam instantly made her nose run, and she reached for a tissue in her pocket, turning her head away to wipe it.

“You’re welcome, but heating soup and making tea isn’t that difficult. Now if you want that bread toasted…” he deadpanned and then winked at her. Hermione laughed. He joined in and she realized she had never heard his laugh before. It was a smooth sound that matched his voice.

“Now eat, while it’s still hot.”

Lucius picked up a mug from the counter and leaned against it, legs crossed at the ankles. As she ate, Hermione observed his attire. He wore a jumper, as she’d noted earlier, but she expected to see a starched collar above the neckline and there was none. On his feet were casual leather shoes -- and were those jeans?! She inhaled sharply before she’d completely swallowed her mouthful of soup and set off a coughing jag. Lucius patted her back as he had Rose’s as she coughed into the handkerchief he pressed into her hand. Her eyes were watering by the time she recovered her breath.

“Have you seen a healer, Hermione? That sounded worse than Rose,” he said. “Drink your tea, it has honey and lemon.”

She took a long drink of the tea, which did feel good on her throat and then shook her head.

“I’m not that sick anymore. I choked on my soup,” she explained, feeling her face get warm. “I was surprised to see you in jeans.”

There was that smile again, and it was starting to make her insides feel melty. Or was that the tea?

“Astoria has been a shocking good influence on both Draco and myself. Loosened us up, as it were,” he told her. 

“But she’s a Pureblood too.”

“Yes, but younger than you and Draco, and her family went to the States during the war, so they’re a little more, shall we say, progressive,” Lucius said, smiling again.

Yes, it was either the tea or his smile, Hermione thought, taking another drink and letting both warm her insides. She felt warm and relaxed. She looked at her mug and then back at the wizard standing beside her.

“You put something in my tea, didn’t you?”

“A small bit of a mild sleeping draught. I knew if I suggested you nap while Rose is asleep you’d tell me you would but would not.”

He reached out and took her arm, helping her to her feet.

“When was the last time you really slept, Hermione? Not since you both fell ill I’m sure. Go have a nap and you’ll feel so much better. I promise.”

“What about Rose? What if she wakes up?” Hermione argued, trying to fight the effects of the potion. Her limbs felt heavy and she allowed him to steer her in the direction of the bedroom.

“I’ll stay here, of course,” he assured her. “If she wakes and is unhappy I shall rouse you immediately. Do you trust me, Hermione?”

She did, she thought. Merlin help her, but she did.

“Yes.”

“Then rest. Your daughter is safe with me.”

Hermione could have sworn she felt his lips brush her temple, before he released her arm and she walked into the bedroom, climbed onto her bed and was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

When Hermione awoke, she was covered in the knitted blanket her grandmother had made, her lingering headache was gone and she felt better than she had in more than a week. The sky outside the window was almost dark, which told her it was late afternoon or more and she wondered how long she had slept. Rose’s bed was empty and she could hear the telly on. Pushing back the cover, she swung her feet to the floor and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. Yes, she felt pretty good. A peek into the main room showed her Lucius and Rose on the couch. Disney’s Little Mermaid was playing on the telly. She smiled. Rose’s favorite. Since they were happily occupied the witch popped into the bathroom before joining them.

“Hey, Rosie Posie, are you being good for Mr. Malfoy?” Hermione greeted her daughter.

“Mummy! We’re watching Ariel. Mr. Luci knows Ariel,” Rose said, jumping down from the couch and throwing herself at her mother.

Hermione picked her up and kissed her forehead. It was cool, and she could hear just a trace of congestion when she spoke. She owed Lucius a thank you. Rose wriggled to be put back down and return to her movie. Lucius stood from the couch and gave her an appraising glance.

“You look rested,” he said.

“I feel better. Thank you, Lucius, for everything. The potion for Rose. Slipping one in my tea.” 

She gave him a look of mock annoyance before smiling.

“You’re most welcome. You’re not one to miss work. When I heard you and Rose were sick, I was concerned.”

He returned her smile and Hermione felt that warmth again. But this time, it wasn’t the tea or a potion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione invites Lucius to dinner to thank him for taking care of her and Rose and he asks her out on a date, as feelings begin to grow between the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised. Chapter 2. I have the third chapter finished and the fourth started. Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos for the first one. As I told someone, I am usually the queen of fluff so it was only a matter of time before I churned out some fluffy Lumione. There will be some serious bits here and there as he learns more about Hermione's marriage to Ron, but you can be sure of a happy ending and potentially some smutty bits.
> 
> Since I didn't give the usual disclaimer before, just let me add that these characters and most references belong to JKR. Only the plot is mine.

A full night’s sleep for both mother and daughter and they were back at work and childcare, respectively. Lucius wasn’t in his office when Hermione arrived, so she left his handkerchief, freshly laundered, on his desk with a drawing Rose made. It depicted the child and Lucius watching The Little Mermaid together. Later that day, Hermione looked up to find the wizard standing in the doorway to her office. He had on a dark blue suit that day, with a waistcoat and pale blue shirt. The whole ensemble made his eyes very blue, she thought.

“Tell Rose thank you for the drawing. I’ll hang it with the ones Scorpius makes for me,” he said.

“I will. Thank you again, for everything. Can I repay your kindness with dinner?” Hermione asked. “I’m not a fancy cook, but I get by.”

“I’d love to have dinner with you and Rose, thank you. When did you have in mind?”

He knew she knew his schedule better than he.

“Tomorrow? Is half six too early?” Hermione asked. “Rose goes to bed at eight.”

“Half six is fine,” Lucius assured her. “I look forward to seeing Princess Rose again.”

He looked at the clock behind her.

“Ah, duty calls. Or I’d invite you to join me for some tea.”

“Yes, you have that floo call. Another time. I’ll tell Rose you’ll be there tomorrow. She was asking if you were coming to read to her again. What else did you two do while I was asleep?”

Lucius just smiled before turning to leave for his call, and Hermione felt that melty warmth again. She’d missed it after he left her flat the day before.

If there was one thing Hermione was grateful for that she got out of her marriage to Ron other than her daughter, it was cooking lessons from Molly Weasley. Since Ron hadn’t wanted her to work, she didn’t have much to do with her time and rather than sit in their house alone all day, she spent most of them with her mother in law at the Burrow. Molly taught her how to cook with magic so it didn’t _taste_ like you had cooked with magic. Because of that, she was able to put together a roast chicken meal when she got home after work the next night in a fraction of the time it would have taken her own mother on a Sunday. She was just helping a freshly bathed Rose into clean pyjamas when there was a knock at the door.

“It’s Mr. Luci!” the child exclaimed, running from the bedroom.

“Rose Granger-Weasley do not open that door yourself!” Hermione called after her.

She took a moment to glance in the mirror and make sure her curls were not too askew, and used her wand to dry the damp spots on her shirt from Rose’s bath, then she walked out where her daughter was bouncing in front of the door, the ears on her bunny slippers flapping. 

“Now you may open it.”

The three year old turned the handle with both hands and tugged on the heavy door until it budged from the frame, revealing Lucius on the other side, the shoulders of his cloak and his hair dusted with snow. He held a white bakery box in his hands.

“I brought dessert,” he said.

“What kind of dessert? Is it cake? We’re going to have cake for my birthday. Mummy doesn’t let me have a lot of sweets. She and Gran say they’re bad for my teeth, but Gramps says I’ll lose all these anyways.” 

She bared her teeth at him in an exaggerated smile and he laughed.

“Rose, let him come in.”

Hermione guided her daughter backwards so Lucius could step inside. She took the box from him and indicated the nearby coat rack for him to hang his cloak. He’d clearly come straight from work and now she felt a little underdressed in her jumper and jeans, but reminded herself he’d seen her far worse the other day. Cloak and suit jacket went on the rack and, after a moment’s pause, he began to loosen his tie. Hermione turned away, biting her lip, because the action was both sexy and intimate and it sent a rush of heat through her she hadn’t felt in quite a while.

“I’ll just put this in the kitchen,” she said.

When she returned, the now tieless wizard was sitting on the couch with Rose looking at a book Hermione didn’t recognize.

“Mummy, Mr. Luci bringed me a book!”

The toddler held it up for her to see as both adults simultaneously said, “Brought.”

Hermione chuckled and Lucius said, “Sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, so she said, “It’s okay. We Granger girls never turn down a new book, do we Rosie?”

Then.

“Dinner will be ready shortly. Would you like wine?”

He hesitated for a moment, then replied with a self conscious smile, “No thank you. I don’t imbibe -- anymore.”

“Just as well,” Hermione replied lightly, “It’s so old, it’s probably gone to vinegar by now. Rose, why don’t you go wash your hands?”

“Mummy, we’re not done with the book!” whinged Rose.

“We can finish after dinner,” Lucius told her. “I need to wash up as well. Can you show me where the lavatory is?”

“The what?”

“The bathroom. Lavatory is just a ten Galleon word,” he explained, taking the book and setting it aside. 

Standing, the wizard offered her his hand. Rose placed her small one in it and led the way to the bathroom which could be seen clearly from the living room. Hermione bit back a smile. When did Lucius Malfoy get so good with children?

Dinner was a pleasant, easy affair albeit cramped in Hermione’s small kitchen. She’d had to transfigure a third chair and put Rose in her booster seat in the corner. Even so, she and Lucius were sitting close enough that their knees touched beneath the table. He had no problem helping Rose with her food and entertaining her with stories of Scorpius. Dessert, much to the child’s delight, were individual cakes about twice the size of a petit four. Hers was frosted in pink, with an edible sugar rose. 

“Half,” her mother told her when she moved to pick it up and take a bite. Rose pouted, but when Hermioned explained she would have more for the next day, agreed to let it be cut in two.

“Shall we save ours to have with coffee in a bit? Or do you need to go?” Hermione asked Lucius.

“I have nowhere else I’d rather be,” he declared, looking her in the eye. 

The witch felt a blush creep up her cheeks and tried to draw attention away from herself by asking her daughter if she should show Lucius how they do the dishes. 

“Yes!” she clapped her sticky hands together. “Do magic, Mummy!”

Hermione drew her wand and set the dinner dishes to magically clean themselves and the leftovers to be packaged and stowed in the refrigerator. As he watched and appreciated the child’s awe at what was happening, Lucius realized other than what he’d done the other day, no magic had been done in the small flat when he was there. He filed that away to ask Hermione about once Rose was in bed. Getting her there was a prolonged process, requiring a reading of the new book by Lucius, and then a second by her mother in their bedroom. Once Hermione had her all tucked in, she requested the wizard come say good night. 

“Goodnight, Princess Rose,” Lucius said once he had been summoned to her bedside.

Rose giggled. “G’night Mr. Luci.”

Impulsively, the wizard bent over and kissed her forehead in a spot that wasn’t covered in fiery curls. Hermione swallowed down a sudden lump in her throat. She couldn’t remember Ron showing such tenderness. She bent as well, and kissed Rose’s cheek.

“Sweet dreams my love,” she whispered. “Mummy loves you.”

“Love you, Mummy.”

When Hermione straightened and turned, she realized Lucius had already gone from the room. Closing the bedroom door behind her, she returned to the living room and found dessert plates waiting for them on the coffee table and the wizard in the kitchen doorway.

“I was going to make coffee but I’ll admit your machine has me baffled,” he told her.

“It’s a French press,” Hermione explained. “I’ll give you a lesson. It’s quite easy, really.”

Lucius watched as she heated the water magically and made the coffee, asking while they waited for it to brew, “Do you not use magic alot at home? I noticed you use a combination at work.”

“It depends on the task,” she acknowledged. “I hate doing dishes, for instance, and it has always entertained Rose, so I do them magically. Folding clothes I do without magic, but it’s faster to magic out the wrinkles. Other things depend on my mood, but some things -- I was never so happy to learn how to magically manage these curls!”

Hermione laughed and shook her head slightly, making them bounce. They were standing close at the counter while she made the coffee and Lucius gave in to impulse for the second time that evening and reached out to touch a ringlet, letting it wrap around his finger. He held her gaze for a moment before she looked away, and opened a cabinet for coffee mugs.

“Milk or sugar?” she asked.

“No. I take it black.”

“Right, I know that.” 

She laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” Lucius asked, stepping out of her space.

Hermione shook her head and forced herself to look him in the eye when she handed over his cup of coffee.

“No.” Then, summoning her Gryffindor courage, she asked, “Why are you here, Lucius? Aside from the obvious that I invited you? I mean, why did you show up at my door the other day when you heard we were sick and then stay and take care of Rose and me?”

He gestured toward the other room and replied, “Why don’t we sit down?”

When both of them were settled at either end of her couch, he took a sip from his cup before continuing.

“Hermione, when Neville hired you, I was curious. Curious why a brilliant witch as yourself had applied for a basic administrative position. I knew about your divorce from Mr. Weasley of course, but I thought you would have gone after something --”

“More glamorous? More in line with something a member of the Golden Trio would do?” she interrupted him with a laugh. “I just needed a job, and I wasn’t qualified to do anything else. I never worked before. Ron didn’t want me to. I know that’s a Pureblood thing for wives not to work, but I didn’t think he would be like that. I probably could have gone to Kingsley and gotten a job at the Ministry, but Ron works there.”

She shrugged and Lucius began to get a different picture of what her life had been like when she was married.

“Yes, well, I’m glad you applied at our company and I’m glad Neville hired you. You’ve done a lot for Longbottom Industries over the last year. But that doesn’t answer your question, does it? Since we’ve worked together, I’ve gotten to know you, Hermione, and when I heard both you and Rose were ill, I was concerned.

“When you opened the door, I was glad I decided to pay you a visit. You looked like you were ready to fall over. It can’t be easy being a single parent when both you and your child are healthy. I can’t imagine how hard it was trying to care for Rose and yourself. You needed someone to take care of you for a little while.”

Hermione was embarrassed to feel her eyes prickle at his words. Ron had never taken care of her. Not when she was sick, not even after Rose was born. He went back to work and expected her to be up and taking care of the baby the day after a grueling 36 hours of labour. Fortunately, Molly and her mother had helped for a few days. She looked into her coffee and blinked back the tears that threatened. Then she took a drink, and raised her eyes to his.

“Thank you. For everything. Even doping my tea. Because you were right. I wouldn’t have slept if you had gone, and I wouldn’t have taken anything because of Rose.”

“I had the antidote to the potion in case you were upset I dosed you without your permission,” Lucius told her, and her opinion of him, which had already changed from years past, went up a couple more notches at that admission.

Then he steered the conversation away from being so serious, asking about Rose and she was happy to tell him more about the almost three-year-old as they ate their desserts. As he suspected, Rose was as brilliant as her mother, who was distracting him by licking the raspberry filling that was in her cake from her fork. Hermione, watching his eyes darken, realized what she had unintentionally done and her cheeks pinked. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her with interest. She never understood where Ron’s attitude came from, since Arthur Weasley seemed to dote on his wife.

“Rose said something about cake for her birthday. Is it soon?” Lucius said, swallowing a bite of his own and trying to take his mind off of the pink lips of the witch beside him.

“Next week. We will go see my parents on Sunday. She’s too young for a party really, not that any of her cousins would come anyway. Harry might bring Al, but I doubt Ginny would come. They all took Ron’s side. Except Harry. He refuses to take sides, even though he doesn’t know…” Hermione’s voice trailed off.

“Know what?”

Lucius was beginning to get an idea of how Ron Weasley had treated his wife, but he just hoped he’d never physically abused her or else he might find himself back in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable on the ginger-haired wizard.

“Ron wasn’t a very good husband. Or father. I’m sure he loved -- loves Rose. He just didn’t help with her.”

She looked at Lucius.

“You did more for her the last two times you were here than he ever did. And for me. It was nice.”

She smiled at him and the wizard was filled with a desire to continue taking care of her and Rose. Show them what it was like to be cared for. And loved. He and Narcissa had loved each other in their own way. But their marriage had been arranged soon after her sister ran off and married Ted Tonks. He was always kind and caring to his first wife, helping her with Draco when he was born, allowing her unlimited access to his vaults for anything she might want, but there was no passion between them. Respect and caring, but no passion. When Draco was about to go to Hogwarts, Narcissa had even told him that if he was interested in having an affair, she would look the other way as long as he was discreet. Lucius assured her he would never disrespect her like that, and their partnership became even more solid. 

Once the war ended and Draco was an adult, they mutually agreed they both needed new starts and the chance to find real love. The wizard hadn’t been actively looking for romance, but it seemed to have fallen into his lap with a most unlikely candidate. He was beginning to suspect that Hermione was either not taking or Weasley had not offered support, based on her choice of living accommodations. She made an average salary, but if that was her only income, it made more sense to him now. This brilliant, beautiful witch deserved more and he wanted to give it to her. Lucius put his cup down on the table in front of them and reached for her free hand.

“Hermione, I would like to spend more time with you -- and Rose of course. May I take you out this weekend? I know you said you’re going to your parents on Sunday. Are you free on Saturday?”

The touch of his thumb rubbing across the top of her hand was sending tingles up Hermione’s arm.

“I would like to spend more time with you too, Lucius, but I would have to get a sitter if you don’t want to do something toddler friendly. I don’t know if my parents can watch her. They wouldn’t mind of course, but they usually get together with friends on Saturdays.”

“May I make a suggestion? Rose knows Scorpius from the nursery at work, correct?” 

Hermione nodded.

“Would she stay with Draco and Astoria for a few hours? The children could play. There’s plenty of things for them to do at the Manor.”

“Rose loves Scorpius! I’m surprised she didn’t talk about him more tonight. I don’t think she would have a problem staying with him. If you don’t think Draco and Tori would mind?” Hermione told him.

“I don’t think they would mind at all,” he assured her, thinking it was going to make for an interesting conversation with his son.

They talked for a while longer, sharing interests and anecdotes about the two three-year-olds in their lives, before Hermione could no longer hold back a yawn. 

“I’m sorry. Rose is an early riser,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get a lie-in when she goes to Hogwarts.”

“No, I’m sorry for keeping you,” he said, rising and helping her to her feet. 

Somehow her hand had stayed in his and now he raised it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. The feel of his warm mouth on her skin had Hermione fighting wobbliness in her legs. Not even when Viktor Krum had done it Fourth Year had it felt quite like that. She followed him to the door and watched as he pulled on his suit jacket that had been discarded on arrival and swirled his cloak around his shoulders. 

“Thank you for dinner,” Lucius said, smiling at her warmly. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work and I’ll speak to Draco about Saturday.”

“You’re welcome for dinner. Anytime,” said Hermione, opening the door. “Good night.”

“Good night, Hermione.”

She watched him walk down the street to the nearest apparition point, thinking she needed to modify her wards so he could apparate straight to her door, and wondered what his lips would feel like against hers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius talks to Draco about babysitting and his intentions with Hermione. Astoria and Hermione talk what to wear and then the wooing of Hermione commences.
> 
> (Sorry, I'm really bad at summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say this chapter is about their first date, but alas, no. What kind of an author would I be if I didn't give you Draco's reaction to discovering his father is taking Hermione out? And of course we need more Lucius/Rose interaction because he's just so damn cute with her.

“Draco? A word, please.”

The younger Malfoy looked up from his cauldron at his father in the doorway to his potions laboratory. 

“If you’re coming in, cover your shoes, please,” Draco told him.

Lucius made a small face, but waved his wand over his shoes to prevent anything on the soles from being tracked into the lab. He was just grateful his son didn’t make him wear one of those shapeless white robes over his clothing like he had on. Then he crossed the threshold into the room.

“What are you working on?” He peered into the cauldron but couldn’t identify the liquid by sight or smell.

“Something for Tori.” Draco waved away the inquiry. “What did you need?”

“Do you and Astoria have plans for Saturday?” he asked casually.

“Nothing firm. We talked about taking Scorpius sledding if there’s enough snow and she feels up to it. Why?”

“How would you feel about watching Rose Granger-Weasley for a few hours? Hermione needs a sitter.”

“Rose? Sure. Scorp loves her. Says she’s a princess like Ariel. The hair I guess.” Draco chuckled. “Why didn’t Hermione ask me herself?”

“Because I - ah, already told her you would so she would agree to let me take her out.”

Lucius turned and inspected a shelf of ingredients.

“Take her out? Like on a date, Father? Since when are you and Granger dating?”

Draco had heard from his wife that Lucius had paid a visit to Hermione’s flat when they were sick because his father had asked for some of the paediatric Pepper-Up. He wasn’t aware of the previous evening’s dinner.

“We aren’t dating. I asked Hermione to go out with me on Saturday when I was at her flat last night and she said she would need a sitter if I didn’t want to take Rose along, which I certainly wouldn’t object to, but I would also like to spend some time alone with her so I volunteered you and Astoria to watch Rose,” Lucius said in one breath, feeling his cheeks heat up.

“Are you blushing, Father?” Draco teased. “Do you fancy Hermione?”

Lucius scowled at him, but couldn’t hold it and a smile smoothed out his countenance.

“I think I might,” he admitted. “Are you okay with that? I know you and she were classmates and don’t exactly have a stellar past. But she’s a brilliant witch. And beautiful.”

“If you like bushy hair,” his son said with a grin that belied his barb. “No, it’s fine with me, Father. Granger and I have moved past our differences like the rest of us have. We’re all adults. If you and she want to date, I have no objections. Better you than the Weasel.”

His father’s face darkened at the name of the other wizard.

“Draco, you have no idea what her life was like married to that twat. She’s only told me a few things so far, but the only good thing that came from that union is Rose.”

Draco watched his father’s hand curl into a fist and asked.

“Was he abusive? He always was a hot head. But I can’t imagine Hermione putting up with that. She’s faster with a wand than he.”

“I don’t know, son. All I know is that witch needs someone to take care of her for a change, and if she’ll let me, I’d like to.”

The younger Malfoy nodded.

“Just let me know what time to expect Rose,” he said.

“I will, thank you.”

Lucius moved to leave the lab but paused in the doorway when he remembered the other favor he wanted to ask of his son and daughter-in-law.

“There is one more thing.”

Astoria found Hermione and Rose in the kitchen having lunch. 

“May Scorpius and I join you?”

“Of course! Hello, Scorpius,” she greeted the toddler who was the spitting image of his father, save for his hazel eyes. “I’m Rose’s Mum.”

“Hi, Rosie!” the little boy greeted the girl, climbing up onto a chair beside her.

“Hi, Scorp.”

“Scorpius, can you say hello to Ms. Granger?” Astoria prompted.

“H’lo,” he said, dutifully.

Once the witches got their children settled with their meals, Astoria said to Hermione, “I hear we’re having a little playdate this weekend.”

“I hope it’s no trouble. I told Lucius we could take her with us.”

“Take your daughter on a date? Absolutely not!” declared the witch.

“I don’t know that it’s so much a date as --”

“As what, Hermione? He asked you out, you’re going somewhere together, you’re both single. That’s a date,” laughed Astoria.

“Okay, it’s a date. Merlin, I haven’t been on a date since I went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum! Ron and I never really did things like dates. If Ron and I went out to dinner, it was with Harry and Ginny, and he never wanted to go to the theatre or even the cinema. I don’t know what to wear!”

“I can tell you that Lucius likes the theatre but he hasn’t been to the cinema that I know of. He watches movies on the telly with Scorpius, so he would probably like it though,” Astoria affirmed. “As for what to wear, I don’t think you need your Yule Ball dress, just something nice. Where are you going?”

“No idea.”

Hermione fretted over her wardrobe the next two nights. Rose asked once if they were playing dress up, she tried on so many different combinations Finally she settled on a deep purple sweater dress that hugged the curves she liked to accentuate and skimmed over the ones she didn’t. She would pair it with tall heeled boots, her favorite jewelry and call it an outfit. 

Lucius told her he would pick her and Rose up at half twelve on Saturday to take them both to the Manor and then the two of them could leave from there. For once Hermione was grateful her daughter liked to get up early. It gave her time to shower and tame her hair into submission. Normally she braided Rose’s curly locks but she asked to wear it down and wear her Little Mermaid shirt so she took the time to magic the girl’s hair to match her own. Promptly at the appointed time they heard a pop of apparition and then a knock on the front door. Rose ran for the door while Hermione took a last look in the mirror, butterflies suddenly taking flight in her stomach. She straightened her necklace and took a deep breath. Then she went to join her daughter who was waiting impatiently to be permitted to open the portal.

“Hi!” Rose said brightly as soon as she had the door pulled open.

“Hello, Princess Rose. You definitely look like a princess today with your hair like that,” Lucius said, stepping into the flat. “This is for you.”

He handed the toddler a small bunch of miniature pink carnations, and turned to greet Hermione, holding out a bouquet of gardenias.

“And these are for you -- you look lovely, Hermione.”

“Thank you.” She accepted the flowers and lifted them to her nose to inhale their fragrance. “How did you get gardenias in January in Britain -- oh, magic.” Hermione smiled. “Rosie what do you say for your flowers?”

“Thank you,” Rose said.

“You’re both welcome,” replied the wizard. “We still have the greenhouse on the Manor grounds that Narcissa built. Are you ready?”

“Let me put all these in water and we can go. Rosie, give me your flowers and get your coat on.”

“I want to take them and show Scorpius!” 

She clutched the nosegay to her chest.

“They’ll die without water,” Hermione told her.

Lucius didn’t want to counter the witch’s authority with her daughter, so he didn’t offer to put a stasis charm on them. 

“Maybe you can ask Astoria to take you and Scorpius to the greenhouse today and you can see all the flowers there,” he suggested.

“Okay,” Rose agreed and handed over her flowers after giving them one last sniff.

Once the flowers were secured in vases, Hermione bundled Rose into her winter cloak and mittens and helped her put on her pink backpack which was outfitted with its own undetectable extension charm. It contained outerwear for playing in the snow, a change of clothes and of course because she was her mother’s daughter, at least three books. Hermione turned to find Lucius holding out her cloak, and turned so he could drape it across her shoulders. His hands lingered there for a moment, before sliding down her upper arms and squeezing them slightly and letting go.

“I’ll have to side apparate us to the Manor. Should I take Rose first and come back for you?”

Hermione met his gray blue eyes with her brown and put her hand on his arm.

“I trust you to take us both,” she said. Then a little less seriously added, “You wouldn’t splinch me on the first date.”

He chuckled as Rose asked, “What’s splinch?”

A quick image of what had happened to her ex-husband when she, Harry and Ron were hunting horcruxes flitted through Hermione's head before she replied, “It’s something that can happen to you if you don’t apparate correctly. But don’t worry. Mr. Malfoy will get us to Scorpius’ house safe and sound.”

“That’s right. I would never let anything happen to you or your mother,” Lucius assured the child. “May I pick you up?”

Rose nodded and held up her arms. The wizard lifted her easily into his and held her with one arm under her bottom. Hermione stepped next to him and he put his other around her waist, pulling her closer. She wrapped one of hers around his back and placed her other hand on Rose’s back.

“Close your eyes, Rosie and when you open them we’ll be there,” he said.

The child did as instructed, Hermione felt the tug and swirl of apparition and then they were standing outside the front door of Malfoy Manor. Lucius kept his arm around her to make sure she had regained her equilibrium and Hermione enjoyed the safe sensation it created. He looked down at her as she gazed up at him and if he hadn’t had Rose in his other arm, would have given in to the impulse to kiss her lips that were parted ever so slightly. 

“That was fun!” cried the toddler, breaking the moment. Then she looked up. “This is a big house!”

He tightened his grip on her waist for a moment and then dropped his arm. She did as well, missing the contact. 

“It is a very big house,” Hermione agreed.

“That has been completely renovated,” Lucius said quietly, bending his head to put his lips close to her ear, knowing the witch was thinking about the only other time she had been to his family’s estate.

She nodded and before she could reply or think about the small shiver that went through her was from his breath against her skin and not the thought of entering the house where she’d been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, the oversized door swung inward.

“What are you doing standing in the cold?” asked Astoria. “Scorpius has been driving us batty waiting for Rose to get here. Please, come in.”

They stepped inside and Lucius lowered a wriggling Rose to the marble entry. Scorpius came running into the hallway, sliding in his stocking feet. He grinned at her. Then up at his grandfather.

“Rose! We’re going sledding!”

“Hi, Popa! We’re going sledding!”

“So I heard,” the wizard replied, ruffling the boy’s hair, and again Hermione was struck at the difference between the way he treated his grandson versus how she’d seen him treat Draco as a child. He really had changed.

Lucius felt her eyes on him and turned to look at her. She turned away quickly and helped Rose remove her backpack and cloak. Hermione lifted the backpack and addressed Astoria.

“There are snow pants, coat and boots in here. As well as a change of clothes,” she told the other witch.

Astoria took it from her with a smile. “Thanks.” 

Then she looked at her father-in-law who was discreetly eyeing his watch. 

“You and Lucius should go. Rose will be fine.”

Draco entered the hallway. He looked at his father and former classmate and grinned.

“You kids go on then and have a good time. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Granger. Come on, Scorp, let’s go get you and Rose changed. That snowman isn’t going to build itself.”

He took Rose’s backpack from his wife.

“Give me a kiss, Rosie,” Hermione, said, kneeling down and holding out her arms.

Her daughter came and received her embrace. She kissed her cheek.

“Bye, Mummy.”

“Good bye, Rosie Posie. Be good for Astoria and Draco. Have fun.”

“Have fun too, Mummy,” Rose replied.

“We’ll floo from here to my flat,” Lucius told Hermione after the children had departed to another part of the Manor with the other adults. “It’s just in here.”

He took her arm and led her from the entry into a nearby room. Even though she knew the whole house had been changed, Hermione’s feet faltered, wondering if this had been the former drawing where she’d lain on the floor, writhing from Bellatrix’s curses.

“This isn’t it,” Lucius said, and turned to face her, putting his remaining hand on her other arm. “Hermione, I am so sorry for what happened to you in this house, but I promise, the room that you see in your nightmares doesn’t exist anymore.”

He moved his hands down her arms to grasp both hands in his.

“We changed the entire layout of this house. No room is the same anymore. Not the size, nor it’s exact location within the building; everything is different.”

Hermione let out the breath that she didn’t realize she was holding with a whoosh. 

“I’ll tell you more about what we did if you want to know, but right now, I want to take you through that floo to my flat in London and then on to our adventure for the afternoon.”

Lucius smiled at her and the nervousness she’d been feeling about being in Malfoy Manor was replaced with that melty feeling and Hermione smiled back.

“Adventure? How did you know adventures are one of my favorite things? Lead on then!”

He retained hold of one of her hands and led her into the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder from the silver pot on the mantel. Calling out his flat’s address, the pair disappeared in a cloud of green smoke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next, Hermione gets to see Lucius' flat and their actual date commences! Thank you all for the love and comments! 😘


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Lucius arrive at his flat in London and spend a little time there before going to lunch and doing some shopping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hump Day! Here's a nice long chapter as a reward for making it to the middle of the week. I am well into Chapter 5, shockingly enough. This really is a first for me. Having chapters written ahead.
> 
> Long distanced hugs of thanks to my British consultant, @theoofoof, for helping me decide where Lucius would live and answering my questions!

When it cleared, Hermione was looking at a large, stylishly decorated living room. But what caught her attention was the panoramic view it afforded. Dropping Lucius’ hand she crossed to the wall of windows to look more closely. She knew they were somewhere in London, but from this height, she couldn’t accurately identify the landmarks below.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Mayfair.” Lucius joined her at the window. He pointed to a green space to her left. There was no snow on the ground here like there was in Wiltshire. “That’s Grosvenor Park.”

Hermione had enough knowledge of the area to know this was an expensive place to live. Of course Lucius would have a flat there. She turned away from the view to survey what she could see of the flat.

“Muggle or magical?”

“Both. The bottom ten floors are muggle. The top ten are magical, but muggles can’t see them from the outside of course.”

“And we’re on what floor?”

“Twentieth. I have the entire top floor.”

“Of course you do.” Hermione laughed. “Because the Penthouse is the best, right?”

“Penthouse?”

“Sorry. Muggle term for the flat on the top floor.”

She turned back to the window. 

“It is a spectacular view.”

“It is,” Lucius agreed, his eyes not directed out the window, but at the witch beside him. “And as much as I’d like to stay here and just keep looking at it, we should be going. Do you need to use the loo first?”

“Please. I’m sure my hair is a fright between apparating and going through the floo.”

He shook his head and reached out to smooth a wayward strand away from her face.

“Barely a curl out of place,” he said. “But I’ll show you the way.”

Hermione followed him through the flat, their footsteps silent on the plush carpet. She got a glimpse into a kitchen with gleaming appliances and granite counters and wondered if he cooked for himself or if there was a house elf lurking around somewhere.

“No house elves anymore,” he said over his shoulder, as if reading her mind. “Even though we freed them, it was a condition of my release. I have a very nice housekeeper who used to be a nanny until her last charge went to Hogwarts. She cleans once a week and makes meals that keep under stasis charms. Hence my ability to re-heat your soup.”

Lucius smiled at her and stopped at a closed door which he opened to reveal a powder room bigger than her bedroom.

“May I take your cloak?”

Hermione pulled it off and handed it to him.

“Thanks. I won’t be too long,” she said.

“Take your time,” he told her. 

His impatience to leave the Manor earlier was not so much because they were on a timetable, but his desire to get the witch to himself. Lucius turned and made his way down the hall as she closed the door. Hermione took a moment to appreciate the luxury of the room she was in. Pedestal basin and a separate, free standing vanity with marble top against a wall with a large mirror over both. The toilet and separate bidet had her rolling her eyes but honestly she expected nothing less. When she emerged, she looked back the way they’d come and then the other direction down the hall where she could see one closed and two open doors; one of which she assumed was Lucius’ bedroom. She bit her lip and threw a glance toward the living area and gave in to curiosity, walking deeper into the flat. The first door she passed was closed, the second was open to a room that was clearly his study with a desk and bookshelves she itched to peruse. The third and final door was also open. 

Hermione stepped inside and was facing a sitting area with a leather wing back chair in front of a smaller fireplace than the one they’d floo’d into, and a small table on which was a book laying open and face down -- she cringed -- and a pair of reading glasses. She turned to see the rest of the room and let out a shriek, automatically drawing her wand out of her sleeve. The owner of the bedroom was sitting on the edge of his very large, very lavishly appointed bed, sporting a Cheshire Cat looking grin.

“Bloody hell, Lucius!” she gasped. “You scared the fuck out of me! I could have hexed you!”

He stood from the bed, waiting to approach her until he spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling. “But you are so very predictable, my darling. There was no way you were going to resist the urge to explore.”

The term of endearment slipped off his tongue without thinking and in her startled state, Hermione didn’t notice, as she concentrated on slowing her pulse and returning her wand to its hidden spot. He was right of course, and she chewed the inside of her cheek, fighting embarrassment at being caught.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snooped. It was rude,” she told him, unable to meet his eyes, looking past his shoulder at the pile of down pillows on the bed.

Now that he was sure she had recovered, Lucius stepped closer, and raised his hand to gently turn her head so they made eye contact.

“Hermione, one of the things I’ve always appreciated about you was your inquisitiveness and desire to learn, even if it got you into trouble when you were younger. But if I was in your position, and getting into a relationship with a former Death Eater, I’d be inclined to investigate a little. You need to protect yourself and your daughter.”

Her eyes widened at his honesty. 

“You’re wrong, Lucius,” Hermione said, tipping her head into his touch and taking a step closer. “I know I have nothing to fear from you. I would never have allowed you to stay in my flat when Rose and I were asleep if I did.”

She held his gaze while she continued.

“But you are correct that I need to protect my daughter. Rose is all I have and I would gladly give my life for her. So if we are getting into a relationship, as you said, then I need to know that you want to have a go at this. I don’t mind getting my heart broken, but she’s gotten quite attached to you and --”

“Hermione,” the wizard interrupted, “I have no intention of breaking yours or Rose’s hearts. In a very short time I have come to care for both of you a great deal, so in your words yes, I want to have a go at this.”

His palm cupped her cheek more firmly and she watched his grey-blue eyes darken as he leaned toward her and brushed his lips against hers. It was the barest of touches. Like fairy wings Hermione thought as her eyes fluttered closed. Lucius took this as permission to kiss her again and this time it was a little longer and with more pressure and she had just begun to return the caress when he pulled away and touched her bottom lip with his thumb.

“More of that later, I think,” Lucius said with a smile. “We have things to do.”

Now Hermione’s pulse was racing for a different reason and she returned his smile, her curiosity again creating an itch that needed scratching.

“You never did tell me where we were going.”

“Lunch and then a little shopping,” he replied, kissing her forehead before taking her by the hand and leading her from the room. He needed to get them away from his bed before he gave in to the images his brain was creating after kissing her so close to it. There would be time for such things. 

“Shopping? For what?”

“Rose’s birthday. With your permission, I’d like to buy her a few things.”

Back in the main room, Hermione transfigured her cloak into a slightly more Muggle looking cape. 

“I suppose that would be all right. She asked me if you would come and have cake with us on her birthday. We’re celebrating with my parents tomorrow. But you would probably have bought her something anyway, wouldn’t you?”

She gave him a mock glare. He smiled but didn’t answer.

“Are you ready? We can get a cab to the restaurant. Then walk to the store I have in mind.”

They exited the main door of his flat to a small hallway where there was a lift. It didn’t take long for it to arrive, and it deposited them in an entry where there was a wizard at a desk, responsible for turning away any Muggles who might happen to find their way through the wrong door.

“Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger.”

He tipped his hat at them.

“Hello, Alfred,” replied Lucius, before holding the exterior door for Hermione and they exited onto the sidewalk.

“How did he know who I was?” she asked.

“You are still one of the most recognizable witches in the British wizarding word, my dear,” he told her. This time, she noticed the term of endearment. It warmed her insides like his smile did.

They quickly found a cab and Lucius gave an address to the driver. A short time later, they pulled up to what Hermione recognized as a high end hotel. She looked at the man beside her.

“The restaurant is inside. But if you’d like to get a room instead,” he said with a raised brow and a wink.

“Maybe another time,” she replied, giving him a small sultry smile in return. “I thought we had shopping to do.”

When Lucius helped her from the car, Hermione’s dress rode up her thighs, giving him a good look before she pulled it back down, her blood heating at his appreciative glance. It had been a long time since she had been looked at like she was desired. Inside the restaurant, they were escorted to a private curved booth where they sat side by side. Waitstaff filled water glasses and offered them menus. A smiling waiter appeared and welcomed them asking if they would like a cocktail or wine. Hermione had read about this restaurant in one of her mother’s magazines and knew they were famous for unique cocktails. Remembering what Lucius said the other night when she offered him wine, she hesitated. Like before, it was as if he read her mind.

“It’s okay if you want a drink,” he said.

“It’s early,” she demurred, choosing a cold flavored tea. Lucius ordered soda water with lime.

When the waiter had left, he repeated his statement, deciding it was time to explain what he’d said the other night. He covered one of her hands with his and spoke quietly.

“Hermione, during the war when I was playing host to -- to the former Mr. Riddle, I turned to alcohol to try and forget the things that were happening in my own home. At first, it was just to help myself sleep without dreaming, but then I started drinking earlier and earlier in the day. I have to admit, I don’t remember much of the day you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley were brought to the manor.”

He laughed drily.

“My subconscious hasn’t forgotten though.”

“Nightmares,” she said. 

“Yes.”

Hermione flipped her hand and laced her fingers with his. He wasn’t the only one who still had night terrors from that time in their lives.

“Going to prison was a kind of forced detox,” Lucius continued. “It was hard at first, but when I was finally clear-headed and given a second chance, I knew I needed to leave that behind me if I was going to make a clean start.”

She squeezed his hand.

“But don’t think you can’t drink around me,” he finished. 

“I really don’t drink much. Hard to get tipsy when I’m the only one around to care for Rose,” Hermione told him. “Plus, Ron’s drinking was one of the reasons I ended things. He didn’t know when to stop sometimes. One time --”

She stopped and shook her head.

“You can tell me, Hermione.”

“I will. Not today.”

“All right,” he conceded, not wanting to pressure the witch. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “What are you getting to eat?”

“It all looks delicious, but I want to try one of those desserts, so I’m going with something light,” Hermione told him.

She chose a roasted fish dish while Lucius ordered what the menu touted as grass fed Scottish steak with peppercorn sauce. Their conversation kept to lighter topics as they ate, talking about Rose and Scorpius and books they’d read or wanted to read. As Astoria had told Hermione, the wizard said he enjoyed going to the theatre and was definitely interested in the cinema. She said she would be happy to take him. When the dessert cart came around, Hermione couldn’t resist the coffee and chocolate mousse. Lucius declined. Watching her spoon the confection between her lips was all the dessert he needed.

“Want a taste?” Hermione held out her spoon to him.

_Sweet Salazar_ , he thought, he did. But not what she was offering on the utensil. A small wandless notice-me-not spell gave them a moment of privacy and he took the spoon from her, placing it on the saucer. 

“What are you doing?”

“More of what I started in my flat,” he said softly, before leaning closer and capturing her lips with his.

This time, she returned the kiss right away. Her lips tasted like coffee and chocolate, and his tongue licked at them, requesting access to her mouth. Hermione gave it gladly, her hand finding his leg, feeling the thigh muscles tense beneath his fine wool trousers. When his tongue touched hers, he made a noise deep in his throat and slid his hands up to cup her face before reluctantly pulling back, ending the kiss with a closed mouth caress of his lips on hers.

“Lucius,” she breathed. 

Hermione’s body was pulsing with desire and she was glad they were in the middle of a restaurant. If he had kissed her like that in his flat, they’d still be there, preferably naked, she thought wildly. She pushed back from him on the bench, putting some distance between them even though she’d rather be in his arms. 

“Are you finished with your mousse?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice wobbled and she cleared her throat and repeated herself. 

He had ended the spell and now raised his arm to get their waiter’s attention. She watched him pull a billfold from his inner jacket pocket and remove a credit card. That surprised her. Muggle money she expected. Not a credit card. She’d ask him about it later. Right now she needed a moment.

“I’m going to the ladies while you pay,” Hermione told him. She gathered up her cloak and bag and slid from the booth. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

She felt him watch her wind her way through the restaurant to the restrooms. Once behind the heavy door, she leaned against it, her heart pounding. No man nor wizard’s kiss had ever made her feel this way. Her knickers were damp just from that short snog. The toilet flushed in a nearby stall. Hermione ducked into one herself and cast a quick scourgify on her knickers, because she didn’t want to walk around the rest of the day like that; although she had no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again, she thought, suppressing a giggle. Logically she knew it was too soon to think about sleeping with Lucius, but at the same time, they were both adults and had all but admitted having feelings for each other. Serious feelings.

Water ran at the sink and the other person in the restroom left. She opened the stall door and went to a basin. She washed her hands and looked at her reflection. Color still stained her cheeks from Lucius’ kisses but it didn’t look bad. Her eyes sparkled back at her as she smiled, reliving the feel of his lips on hers. If she was honest, it was the best she’d looked in a while. A quick fluff of her curls and she left the bathroom. The wizard was waiting for her in the lobby of the hotel, hands thrust deep in the pockets of the overcoat he’d transformed his cloak into with a brooding look on his face that reminded her of teenage Draco. She approached him and linked her arm through one of his, giving it a squeeze.

“What’s wrong?”

“I apologize. I moved too fast in there,” he said.

Hermione moved to stand in front of him.

“Lucius, if I didn’t want you to kiss me like that, I wouldn’t have let you,” she said firmly. “As far as I’m concerned, we are on the same page right now. If that changes, you’ll know.” She raised up on her toes and pressed a quick kiss on his mouth before whispering, “Witches’ honor.”

That brought a smile to his face.

“That’s better,” Hermione said. “Now, where are we shopping?”

The store Lucius had in mind was a few blocks away and he asked if she minded they walk. He needed the cold air to cool his libido and emotions. He felt badly about how passionately he’d reacted to their kiss and was afraid he’d frightened her away. The wizard was relieved to hear her say they were on the same page. They strolled in silence, her hand in his pocket, their fingers laced together. When his steps slowed as they reached their destination, Hermione looked up at the building in surprise.

“Hamley’s? You want to shop for Rose’s birthday in Hamley’s?”

She expected Lucius to take them to the Disney Store, which she knew was nearby, since he knew her daughter’s fondness for the princesses.

“Is this not acceptable? Astoria said this was the best toy store in Britain.”

“It is. Hamley’s is iconic and this is the flagship store. Seven floors.” 

She tipped her head back and looked up at the building. Hermione had known about Hamley’s her entire life. She’d been to a branch store closer to her childhood home, but she’d always wanted to visit the original one.

“Then let’s go in.” He gestured toward the main entrance. Hermione hesitated.

“This is an expensive store, Lucius.”

“Don’t worry about that today. This is my treat. For Rose. She deserves a little spoiling now and then. You both do.”

He pulled their hands from his pocket and kissed the back of hers. She nodded.

“Okay.”

They visited all seven floors of the building and Hermione got caught up in the thrill of being among all the toys, but she finally had to put an end to Lucius’ spending spree when he wanted to purchase Rose a pink tricycle. 

“Lucius, she has no where to ride that!” she objected, even though she knew her daughter would love it. But even with an extension charm, there wasn’t room in their postage stamp sized backyard.

When they exited the store it was dusk and Hermione couldn’t believe they’d been in there that long. 

“We were in there all afternoon!” she exclaimed, looking up at the darkening sky that seemed to be threatening snow. “How are we going to get all of this home?” 

Between the two of them, they had a total of five bags, including some things for Scorpius and a few gifts for her daughter that Hermione had given up on arguing with Lucius to let her pay for herself. For once Hermione regretted not bringing her beaded bag. The wizard directed her around the corner and they quickly reduced the size of their purchases to fit into two bags with a discreet wave of their wands. Then he hailed a passing cab and they headed back to his place.

A different wizard was at the desk by the lift, but he also tipped his hat and greeted Hermione by name. She had a fleeting thought about whether her date with Lucius was going to end up in the papers but that was pushed from her mind when they entered the flat and she saw the view from the window now that the city was lit up for the night. Dropping her bag on the couch, she crossed to the wall of windows with an exclamation.

“I can see the London Eye from here!” The iconic landmark ferris wheel was more visible in the distance now that it was illuminated. She turned back around to address Lucius. “Have you ever been? What?”

He was looking at her with an odd expression. If she had to put a name on it, she’d have almost called it pensive or wistful.

“I was just thinking how much I’ve enjoyed today and that I don’t want it to be over.”

Hermione pulled off her cloak and put it with the shopping bags, and crossed to where he was standing. He had removed his outerwear as well and she slid her arms around around his waist underneath his suit jacket, the action feeling completely natural. The wizard had forgone a shirt and tie in favor of a more casual yet equally stylish and sexy turtleneck pullover in a dove gray. The fabric was deliciously soft under her hands and she rubbed her palms across his broad back. His hands found purchase on her hips and then explored the fabric of her dress at the small of her back.

“It has been a wonderful day. Thank you,” she told him. “But I’ve left Rose with Draco and Tori far too long, I’m afraid.”

Lucius shrugged slightly. “Gives them practice with two.”

“Is Astoria pregnant?” Hermione asked, breaking into a smile.

“Neither have said, but there are indications. They may be waiting to make an announcement until she’s further along. Her pregnancy with Scorpius was hard on Astoria.”

“I won’t say a word,” the witch vowed. “But all the more reason to get back and retrieve Rose and let Astoria rest.”

“Will you let me see you all the way home or should I say my goodnights here where we have a little more privacy?”

Hermione’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Would you mind if I said yes to both?”

Lucius’ hands tightened on her waist and he pulled her more snugly against him.

“Not at all.”

Their fourth kiss -- not that Hermione was counting -- was different even than the previous ones had been. She met him halfway, pulling her arms from around his waist and sliding them up past his shoulders to the back of his head where her fingers found their way into his hair as their lips came together. This time, they explored with lips and tongues, learning what each other liked. Hermione discovered the wizard made an involuntarily sound when she sucked on his lower lip and Lucius found that cradling her face with both his hands caused her to whimper and tremble. Finally, she pulled her mouth away from his, needing to be able to take a full breath, and rested her head on his shoulder. Lucius held her close, one hand tangled in her curls.

“We should go,” he said, knowing there was one last part of the day waiting for the two new witches in his life. 

Hermione’s eyes were closed and she took one last moment to extend the feeling of being cherished and wanted. Then she tipped her head back and looked up at the wizard.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and he knew she didn’t just mean for the meal and the shopping.

“Do not thank me, Hermione, for making you feel the way you deserve to feel.” 

Lucius pressed one last gentle kiss on her lips before releasing her from his embrace.

“Perhaps we should wrap these birthday gifts before we return so she doesn’t see what they are,” he suggested. “I’m sure Rose is just as inquisitive as her mother.”

He grinned at her and Hermione wrinkled her nose at him, knowing he was taking the piss on her earlier moment of curiosity.

“We should,” she agreed. A few waves of their wands and the bags were full of brightly wrapped packages.

Hermione looked at him as they prepared to floo back to Malfoy Manor. 

“I hope I’m not too disheveled. Don’t want Draco and Astoria to think we were up to something we weren’t.”

Lucius guided her into the fireplace.

“You look thoroughly snogged.”

Her mouth was still open when they arrived and she inhaled some of the floo powder, making her sputter and him laugh as they stepped out into the drawing room.

“Mummy! Mummy!”

“Rose!” Hermione knelt down and caught her daughter in a tight hug. “I missed you. Were you a good girl for Draco and Astoria?”

The child bounced in her embrace. Scorpius shimmied with excitement beside her.

“Yes. We’re having a birthday party, Mummy! Come see! Mrs. Tori said me’n Scorp had to wait until you were home to go into the room and see the decorations.”

“Scorpius and I,” Hermione automatically corrected, then realized what Rose had said. “A birthday party? For who -- oh!”

Hermione released her daughter and stood, looking at Draco and Astoria, who had followed Rose and Scorpius into the room when they heard the floo. 

“Is this your doing?” she said softly to the wizard beside her.

“Every princess needs a party,” he stated, failing to keep a pleased smile from his face. “Lead the way, Rosie! Let’s go see the decorations.”

Hermione had to admit it was a little girl’s dream when they entered the dining room. Pink streamers were strung from each corner to the center of the room, where the chandelier had been transfigured from its normal clear crystals to pink ones. Dozens of pink and white balloons floated in the air and there was cake in the middle of the table decorated with pink roses and the words Happy Birthday Rose. The birthday girl’s eyes were like saucers as she looked around.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Hermione said, speaking to Lucius, Draco and Astoria. “But thank you.”

There was the sound of the floo in the other room and Draco said, “Ah, there’s the other surprise.”

He hurried from the room, while Astoria said, “This was Draco’s idea, Hermione. He hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

Hermione stiffened, thinking surely Draco wouldn’t have invited Ron. She took a small step closer to Lucius as they heard footsteps returning. 

“It’s not who you think,” he murmured, putting his hand at the small of her back. She relaxed into his touch slightly, still tense and curious watching the doorway.

A man with unruly black hair and familiar green eyes behind glasses came into view, carrying a child with matching hair and eyes. 

“Hello, Hermione,” he said. “Happy Birthday, Rose. This is your cousin, Albus. You probably don’t remember each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kind words and praise. 😘 Yes, this is a very fluffy Lucius, but wait until he hears the truth about Ron. He'll be more like Fluffy the Three-Headed Dog! 😡 I have my favorite parts of this chapter. Please tell me what you liked best!
> 
> The place they ate is patterned after www.bernerstavern.com and www.hamleys.com is like the British equivalent of FAO Schwarz.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fun continues with Rose's surprise party but things go a little sideways when the Sunday paper arrives. Then Hermione's parents meet Lucius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wands at the ready! Because you know nothing happens in the wizarding world without it ending up in The Daily Prophet, right? New tags will be added for the next chapter and I'll remind you again when they do.

“Harry!”

Harry Potter lowered his son to the floor. The boy clung to his leg, looking at Rose and Scorpius who had approached when her uncle said her name. Hermione quickly left Lucius’ side and embraced her best friend tightly. Tears pricked her eyes. It had been far too long since they’d seen each other. He returned the hug, before putting her away from him and looking at her.

“You look good, Hermione. You must be doing well,” he said. “I was really surprised when I got Malfoy’s owl, inviting us to a birthday party for Rose. Here of all places.”

“This was a surprise to me also. I had no idea what Draco and Lucius were up to. I am well, thanks. You look good too. And Al is so big! The last time I saw him, he was just walking. How are Ginny and James?”

The toddlers continued to eye each other. Finally, Astoria spoke.

“Let’s catch up while we eat, shall we? I’m sure the children are hungry.”

“We’re having bis-sketti, Mummy,” said Rose, tugging on her hand to get her attention.

“Your favorite,” her mother said, reluctant to pause her conversation with Harry. She wondered why Ginny and James hadn’t come and if it was because the witch was still angry over her divorce from Ron.

“Come here, Princess Rose,” said Lucius. “I see a seat for the birthday girl.”

He swung her into his arms and carried her to a decorated chair at the round table, which now had bowls of pasta, sauce and meatballs on it, along with salad and bread. Harry’s eyes widened behind his glasses at the familiarity between the elder Malfoy and his niece, but said nothing for the moment.

Hermione took the seat on one side of her daughter and Lucius the other. Harry sat beside his friend, putting Albus to his left. Astoria sat beside his son, putting herself opposite Rose. Draco rounded out the table on Scorpius’ other side, next to his father. Lucius saw to filling Rose’s plate, allowing Harry and Hermione to continue their conversation after the green-eyed wizard tended to his son’s. 

“Ginny didn’t feel up to coming and James is spending the weekend with George,” Harry told Hermione. She nodded.

“Rose and I had the flu recently, too. It’s going around.”

“No, she’s not sick -- you don’t know, do you?” Harry asked. “Ginny is pregnant.”

“Pregnant! No, I didn’t know. That’s wonderful, Harry!”

“It’s a girl and it’s been rough on her this time. A lot of morning sickness -- all day -- wipes her out.”

Astoria nodded sympathetically, moving the food around on her own plate with her fork before picking up a slice of bread and taking a small bite. Hermione noticed and suspected Lucius was right about his daughter in law.

“I’ll send her an owl. Maybe I can come help out a bit or take the boys once in a while,” Hermione offered. “If you don’t think she’d mind.”

“Not at all. I think she’d like that. She’s starting to understand. We all are. There have been a few things Ron --” Harry broke off when Lucius cleared his throat, gave him a pointed look and then glanced at Rose, who had been watching her mother and uncle intently. “We’ve missed you, Hermione. And Rose.”

He smiled at the toddler who looked so much like he imagined his unborn daughter could. 

By the time Rose had opened presents and cake was served, the three toddlers had warmed up to each other and parting turned into meltdowns fueled by sugar and sleepiness. Harry promised Rose she and Albus would see each other again soon and invited Scorpius as well, telling Hermione he would owl soon, before disappearing in the green smoke. 

“Alllllbus!” Both Rose and Scorpius cried into the floo, making the adults laugh.

“You’ll see Albus again soon enough,” Hermione said, bundling Rose into her coat for the apparition home.

“I think a clean break is what we need right now,” said Draco. “I’m going to wrestle Mr. Sticky Hands into the tub. Good night, Hermione. Good night, Father.”

“Good night, Draco. Thank you for all of this. Especially for inviting Harry,” Hermione replied. “Rosie, do stand still and let Mummy button your coat.”

“Good night, Draco. Good night, Scorpius.” Lucius kissed the top of the toddler’s head where there wasn’t a spot of pink frosting. Then he scooped up Rose into his arms.

“Young lady, it’s time for you to go home. You need to be still whilst we apparate so we all get there in one piece. Do you understand?”

He spoke firmly but kindly. She nodded and put her arms around his neck and a little bit more of Hermione melted inside watching the two interact. She quickly gathered up the gifts that were opened and the ones she was saving for her daughter’s actual birthday a few days hence, grabbed her cloak and stepped close to Lucius, putting her arms around his waist.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Rosie, close your eyes.”

Seconds later they were in her living room. It looked much smaller and shabbier compared to Lucius’ flat and Malfoy Manor, Hermione thought.

“That wasn’t as fun this time,” said Rose, looking a little pale.

Hermione hoped apparating after cake wasn’t going to end with it all over Lucius.

“No, it’s not when you’re tired,” he told the girl. “Put your head back down and close your eyes for a minute. You’ll feel better.”

“I’ll go run a tub.”

While the tub filled, Hermione quickly changed her clothes. It felt good to get out of the boots and sweater dress, regardless of how nice she’d looked. She was just pulling on her favorite sweater over a t-shirt when she heard the water turn off. Then Lucius appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

“She’s asleep,” he said quietly. 

“I guess a quick scourgify will have to do and she can take a bath in the morning,” said Hermione.

The wizard gently placed the girl in her bed and left her mother to get her undressed. When she joined him in the other room, he had made tea. Hermione gratefully took a sip and sank down onto the couch beside him.

“I don’t know who had a better time today, me or Rose,” she told him. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“No thanks are necessary, my dear. I should be thanking you. For going out with me and letting me spoil Rose.”

He smiled at her over his own mug and the warmth she felt inside wasn’t from the tea.

“We’re going to my parents tomorrow but will you come back for dinner on Rose’s actual birthday? It’s Tuesday.”

“Of course.”

Hermione leaned against him and he put his arm around her.

“We’ll be having spaghetti again,” she warned and felt him chuckle silently. They sat in silence for a while then she said, “I’m really glad Draco invited Harry. I wonder what Ron’s done that Harry said has made them start to understand why I left him. I want to tell him and Ginny everything that happened. You too.”

“You don’t _have_ to tell me anything, Hermione. But I’d be honored if you wanted to.” He used his other hand to tip her chin up so he could look her in the eye. “As long as you understand Weasley may be on the business end of my wand once I hear what he did.”

Then he kissed her and all thoughts of her ex-husband were gone like a dementor faced with a patronus charm.

The next morning, while Rose played in the tub after having dried frosting scrubbed from the tips of her curls, Hermione enjoyed a second cup of coffee and the paper. She only subscribed to the Sunday edition of The Prophet because she simply didn’t have time to read it on weekdays. After perusing the front page which was full of Ministry news that didn’t much interest her anymore, she flipped to the inside where she saw a photograph of herself from her wedding to Ron, cropped to remove him, and Lucius’ mugshot from Azkaban under the headline: **_Divorcee Seen with Former Death Eater._ **

“What the --?” Hermione bit off the curse, knowing Rose was within earshot. She scanned the article, her temper growing. 

**_Former member of the Golden Trio…..now tarnished….spotted in London...dining together….canoodling..._ **

“Canoodling?!”

“What about noodles, Mummy?” Rose called from the bathroom.

“Nothing honey,” Hermione replied. “Mummy’s talking to herself.”

Then she muttered, “Mummy’s going to be putting a reporter back in a jar.”

There was no byline on the article, but she knew Rita Skeeter had moved from reporter to editor and kept her minions watching her, Harry and Ron’s every move. Especially her and Ron since they’d gotten divorced. Hence the official reason she gave for their divorce was officially irreconcilable differences because she didn’t want to air their dirty laundry in the press. If she had accused Ron of abuse, the press would have had a field day.

“Mummy! I’m done!”

Hermione folded the paper so Rose wouldn’t see the photos and went to the bathroom to get her daughter from the tub. As she dried her off and helped her dress, she wondered if Lucius got the paper. She knew Harry did, and Arthur and Molly. 

“Bugger,” she mumbled. 

“Bad word, Mummy,” Rose chastised. 

“Sorry, honey.”

For the first time since she and Rose had moved into their little flat did she regret not having paid extra for one with a floo so she could have called Harry. Maybe she should get an owl, she mused. As she was finishing braiding Rose’s hair there was a knock at her door. 

“Grandma and Grandpa!” cried Rose, running from the room.

“Rose, wait,” Hermione said, hurrying after the girl.

In all likelihood it was her parents. They always came and picked up her and Rose since she didn’t have a Floo. She opened the door and was surprised to see not just her parents as expected, but Lucius as well. Hermione wondered why he hadn’t just apparated into the flat. He had a smile on his face as he chatted with her parents, but she could tell from his posture he’d seen the newspaper.

“Morning, Mum. Dad,” the witch said. “Lucius! What are you doing here?”

“Grandma! Grandpa! I had a party at Scorp’s house!” Rose told her grandparents. “Hi, Mr. Luci.”

Hermione moved aside so the three could enter the flat. Rose had taken her grandmother’s hand to show her the gifts she’d gotten the day before. Ed Granger was looking at Lucius like he suspected there was something going on between the wizard and his daughter.

“Good morning, Hermione,” Lucius said, kissing her cheek. The move caused her father’s eyebrows to rise. “Your parents and I arrived at the same time. They said they were coming to pick you and Rose up for your visit. I’m sorry for interrupting but I wondered if you got today’s Prophet?”

“Lucius said you and he work together,” her father said. 

“Yes, we do,” Hermione replied, then turned to the wizard and said, “And yes, to your question as well. How did that happen? I didn’t see anyone watching us!”

“How did what happen?” asked Ed.

Lucius let Hermione answer as he didn’t know how familiar her parents were with the wizarding world.

“The Daily Prophet reported that Lucius and I were together yesterday in London,” she explained. “Which we were. But as usual, it’s not good press. Here, I’ll show you. Mum are you good with Rose for a minute?”

Jean Granger nodded. “Yes, I gather this isn’t information for small ears?”

“No. Thanks, Mum.”

Hermione led her father and Lucius into the kitchen and showed Ed the article. The Grangers were familiar with the wizarding paper and the antics of Rita Skeeter in the past. After Hermione’s divorce, she’d had to put wards around her parents house to keep the press away after they figured out she and Rose had moved in with them.

“Canoodling?” Ed Granger said. “Who says canoodling anymore?”

Lucius snorted in agreement, but shared a look with Hermione that remembered what they’d done in the restaurant. There had to have been someone magical in there, to recognize he’d put up a spell to keep people from noticing. His attention was drawn back to the other man when he lowered the paper and looked at him.

“So you were in prison?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ed Granger wasn’t more than ten years his senior, but he was Hermione’s father and deserving of the appropriate respect. Lucius could see where Hermione got her curly hair, although it was closely cropped to Ed’s head.

“I did some things during the war that were deserving of the sentence I was given,” Lucius said. “But I served my time.”

“Lucius is nothing like the man he was back then, Dad,” Hermione said quickly, taking the wizard’s hand and feeling suddenly like a teenager defending her boyfriend. “He’s done a lot to make amends for his actions. I’m concerned about what Ron is going to do when he sees this. You know how he was always jealous of me and Harry, thinking there was something between us. What if he sees this and tries to sue for custody of Rose?”

“He was never interested in that before, Hermione.” Her father tried to reassure her.

“But she wasn’t dating a former Death Eater before, though, was she?” Lucius said, his jaw tightening. “Was Weasley really jealous of you and Potter? Even though he married his sister?”

“He was,” Hermione said. “I feel like I need to talk to Harry. Maybe he has an idea of how Ron is going to react.”

“Isn’t Harry a police officer? Can you get a restraining order against Ron?” Ed suggested.

“Harry is an Auror, yes and I don’t know if there are such things in the magical world, Dad.”

“I know it’s Sunday, but you need to get ahead of this, honey, if you think Weasley is going to be a problem. Your mom and I can take Rose home with us. Keep her overnight even. He can’t get near our house anymore.”

The man looked at Lucius and explained.

“There was one time when Rosie was a baby and Hermione first moved in with us that he came looking for her. Pissed as a fart. He knew where we lived, of course, he’d been there with her before. Pounded on the door. Demanded 'his witch' go back home with him.”

Hermione watched Lucius’ face grow thunderous as he listened. She squeezed the hand she was still holding.

“I was able to convince him to let me apparate him back to our -- his house before the neighbors called the police,” she finished. “After that I put up wards. He can’t even set foot in the yard now, much less get to the door.”

“I agree with your father,” Lucius said. “Rose doesn’t need to be involved in any of this.”

Before Hermione could reply, there was a tapping at the window on the door leading to her small backyard. They looked and saw a snowy owl that could only belong to one wizard. Harry refused to get any other kind and insisted on naming Hedwig’s successor after her, except he referred to the bird as H2 or just H. Hermione told him it sounded like a character in a Bond film. She opened the door and the bird flew in, landing on the back of a chair. The message from Harry was brief and to the point.

**_Saw the paper. Ron did too. Can you come over? We need to talk._ **

“I guess that sorts it then,” said Ed. “We’ll take Rose home with us. Don’t worry about her. You deal with that arsehole.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Hermione gave her dad a hug, feeling grateful once again for being able to reverse the Obliviation spell she’d put on them and that they’d understood and forgiven her. He ended the embrace and walked into the other room.

“Where’s my Rosie Posie?” Hermione and Lucius heard him say jovially and then the girl giggle. “How would you like to come home with Grandma and me for a little birthday holiday?”

“What about Mummy?” Rose asked.

“Mummy has some important work to do that just came up,” the man lied smoothly. 

“Is that why she said the bad word before?” the child asked, making Hermione chuckle quietly.

Lucius looked at her with amusement.

“As a matter of fact it is,” the witch said, joining her parents. “I’m sorry I can’t come with you sweetie, but you’ll have a good time at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”

“I’ll come help you pack a bag for her,” Jean Granger said, keen to hear what had transpired in the kitchen that resulted in a change of plans.

Lucius busied himself making coffee while the women went to the bedroom and took one for himself and Hermione’s father to the other room, levitating the cream and sugar onto the low table at the couch.

“Thank you,” the older man said, then after a sip and a glance at his granddaughter who was occupied with a puzzle. “So you and Hermione are dating?”

“We are. It happened quickly,” the wizard admitted, “but I have nothing but Hermione and Rose’s best interests at heart.”

“Were you married before as well?”

“Yes. My son, Draco, went to school with Hermione,” Lucius explained and saw the pieces come together in Ed Granger’s mind at the name of his daughter’s former bully.

“You’re that Malfoy.”

“I am, sir. The name is the same but I am not the same wizard I was back then. Neither is my son.”

Ed glanced at his granddaughter and back to Lucius.

“Rose, why don’t you go make sure Mummy puts your favorite books in your bag?” he suggested and waited until the child had skipped off happily before he turned his face back to Lucius and fixed his brown gaze, so much like his daughter’s on him.

“When it comes to magic, I trust my daughter knows what she’s doing. When it comes to men, not so much anymore. Marrying Ron Weasley was a mistake and the only good thing that came from it was Rose.”

Lucius wanted to interrupt and agree but he simply nodded his head. Ed Granger continued.

“I remember you, Lucius. From that day in the bookstore before Hermione’s second year at Hogwarts. Looking down on us because we were Muggles. You certainly don’t look the same as you did then, and you don’t act the same, so I’m going to trust _Hermione’s_ judgement when it comes to you and I’m going to trust _you_ when you say you’ve changed. I spent almost two years listening to my daughter cry over that wanker and if you put anything but a happy tear in her eyes, I will make you regret it.”

The wizard nodded again, not doubting a word the man said, then spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“As I said, what is happening between Hermione and myself happened quickly and was not something I expected, but I assure you, I would throw myself in front of a killing curse aimed at either her or Rose before I’d do anything to hurt them. I have the desire and the means to take care of both of them and make sure they want for nothing.”

This time it was Ed who nodded, took a drink from his cup and then put it down before slapping his palms on his legs and standing from the couch.

“Are you hens about done in there?” he called toward the bedroom. 

Hermione had replied to Harry’s owl that she would be over as soon as her parents left with Rose and that she was bringing Lucius with her. Once the Grangers had departed with Rose snugly belted into her carseat, the wizard asked if she was sure she wanted him to accompany her.

“Absolutely,” she avowed, putting her arms around his middle like she had the day before. Without heels, she was shorter and now rested her head on his chest where she could hear the calming thump of his heart.

“This is about both of us. Plus, I only want to have to explain what Ron did one more time. To you and to Harry and Ginny.”

Lucius put his arms around her and pulled her close. Based on what Ed Granger had said and things Hermione had alluded to, he had a feeling he was not going to like what she had to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of the conversation between Hermione's dad and Lucius? Constant vigilance! Because things are heating up in the next chapter! And I don't mean in the bedroom, although that's not out of the realm of possibility. 😉😎


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tells Harry, Ginny and Lucius exactly what happened between her and Ron and why she divorced him.
> 
> ***MIND THE TAGS***SEE NOTES BELOW***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is what we've been building to, but PLEASE mind the tags.
> 
> I have updated the tags accordingly and changed the rating to M for this chapter and the much less angsty and very lemony one that follows. But to get to the smut, we have to get through the bad parts.
> 
> The section where Hemione details what was the final straw is in ITALICS. Please MIND THE TAGS and feel free to scroll past that part. I've alluded to enough and there is enough context in other places that you'll get the gist without reading the dirty details if you think it will bother you. Unfortunately, domestic violence isn't pretty.

It was Hermione’s turn to lead the side-along apparition to Harry and Ginny’s house and Lucius had to admit he was expecting something more like the Weasley abode. Instead, they landed outside a sizable home on the outskirts of Godric’s Hollow. Harry had chosen to return to his roots to raise his family. Due to his popularity and profession, they opted to purchase property and build a home that they could ward from the ground up instead of having to try and modify ones on an existing house. The interior was well appointed, with large rooms and upscale but comfortable furnishings. Again, Lucius reminded himself that Potter, while raised by Muggles, came from a well off wizarding family.

Harry and Ginny had welcomed them both; Mrs. Potter a little more warily when it came to the man who had slipped Tom Riddle’s diary in with her school books. She offered tea and coffee in a cheery kitchen filled with winter sun and children’s drawings pinned to the cabinets. The two couples sat across from each other at the table with cups before them, wondering where to begin. Hermione drew a fortifying breath and decided to just get it all out in the open.

“Harry, you said Ron saw the article. What did he say about it?”

“Wait,” interrupted Lucius, raising his hand. “Where are your boys? I suspect this is not something they need to hear.”

“Thank you for your concern, Lucius,” Harry said. “I took them to spend the day at The Burrow with Molly and Arthur. We can speak freely.”

Then the green eyed wizard turned to Hermione.

“He was here before sun up. I wonder if he had just gotten home -- he looked like it. Came through the floo waving the paper. I hadn’t even seen it yet. He went on a rant about how he was surprised you were with Lucius. Said he thought you always had a thing for Draco, but,” Harry hesitated.

“But what? Just tell me, Harry. It can’t be any worse than things he said to my face.”

“He said he thought you always had a thing for Draco, but that you would probably open your legs for any Malfoy and that --” Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Don’t make me say it, Hermione. I can’t believe Ron said these things.”

“Believe it Harry,” she spat. “He said things like that to me all the time. He never believed I loved him. He thought I married him because I couldn’t have you.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “What? That’s not true! He knew you and Harry never had feelings for each other. Did you?”

Hermione shook her head and reached over to put her hand over the other witch’s to reassure her.

“Never. Harry has always been a brother to me. But Ron didn’t believe that. He could never forget what the locket made him think and what it said to him.”

Lucius was the only one of them who didn’t understand the reference, so Harry gave him a quick recap of the horcruxes -- the former Death Eater was horrified that Riddle made so many! -- and explained what happened when they destroyed the locket. 

“Even on our wedding night he was jealous. I was --” now she was the one who hesitated. 

“I was a virgin. Ron was a little rough and he hurt me. He finished quickly and got angry when I was upset it wasn’t the wedding night I expected. He said I probably thought it would have been better with Harry. I gave in every time he initiated sex because if I didn’t he would accuse me of wanting Harry instead. I was surprised it took as long as it did for me to get pregnant with Rose, to be honest.”

“Every time?” Ginny was aghast. 

“Every time.”

Hermione took a drink of her coffee.

“Finally when I did get pregnant, he didn’t touch me the whole time. I can’t tell you how happy I was Rose had red hair from the day she was born. There I was, exhausted after thirty-six hours of labour and should have been happy with my new baby but all I could think was thank Merlin he couldn’t try and say she wasn’t his.”

Her eyes filled with tears; finally being able to share all these things with her best friends. She had kept them to herself, thinking maybe she had done something wrong, or maybe there was something she could do to solve the problem; fix things. Lucius hadn’t said a word, but now pressed a linen handkerchief into her hand.

“Hermione, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he was like that!” Ginny told her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I thought maybe once we had Rose, he would change. But he didn’t. I even suggested we see a healer for counseling and he told me there was nothing wrong with him.” 

“What made you decide to leave him?” Harry asked.

His stomach was churning with disgust. As an Auror, he’d encountered victims of domestic violence before and it always made his blood boil that a wizard could treat a witch the way some did. But to learn that the man he’d grown up with, considered a brother -- was a brother by marriage -- had essentially raped his best friend, made her feel like she was unloved, didn’t believe her feelings for him were real was creating a sense of rage in him like he’d not felt in a long time.

The tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks in hot trails. Failure was not something Hermione Granger took lightly. It had taken her a long time to accept her failed marriage was not her fault. When she appeared on her parent’s doorstep one night with Rose in a carrier strapped to her chest; her wand in one hand and her school trunk in the other, both mother and child sobbing, Ed and Jean Granger asked no questions. They took care of their daughter and granddaughter and it wasn’t until a full week had passed that finally Jean sat Hermione down and asked what happened. This would be only the second time she had told the story.

Lucius reached over and took one of her hands in his. He was angry already at what he’d heard and knew it was likely only to get worse, but none of it was Hermione’s fault and he wanted her to know nothing she had or would say changed how he felt about her. The feel of his hand around hers grounded her and she took a breath before speaking, keeping her gaze fixed on the table.

_Rose was a few months old and had been fussy all day. Hermione had rocked her, nursed her, paced the floors with her but nothing had comforted the infant. As a result, the new mother had done little else besides care for her daughter. Finally, late in the day the baby settled enough that Hermione could put her in the infant seat. The first thing she did was wash her face and brush her hair. She had just pulled on a clean shirt to replace the one spotted with spit-up and breast milk when she heard the sound of Ron apparating home. A look at the clock told her it was past dinner and she had started nothing. There were leftovers from the Sunday roast. She would heat that up, she thought, hurrying out to greet Ron._

_She could tell by his voice that he’d been drinking. Drinking after work had become more and more common for him once Harry had been promoted and Ron hadn’t. His circle of work friends were different from Harry’s now and were made up of mostly single wizards who had nothing to do after their shift but have a few pints at the local pub. He did ask how her day had been but didn’t want to hear about the exploits of a fussy baby and immediately began telling her about his. Then he asked about dinner. Hermione tried to explain that she hadn’t had a chance to prepare something what with Rose and all, but he got angry and said that shouldn’t matter. A_ **_good_ ** _witch was able to take care of a baby and make sure a hot dinner was on the table every night._

_Normally Hermione didn’t argue with him when he got like this, but today she was at the end of her rope after trying to calm their daughter all day. She told him she_ **_was_ ** _a good witch but if he didn’t like what she was giving him for dinner he could make something himself or go have his Mummy feed him. Their raised voices woke a napping Rose who began to cry. Her temper getting the better of her, Hermione blamed it on Ron._

_He pulled out his wand, pointed it at Rose and said maybe if they didn’t have a child he’d get his dinner on time. Hermione stepped in front of the baby and said if he was going to harm her he’d have to go through her to do it. She could have summoned her own wand from the counter and defended herself and Rose, but she was frozen. The only thing she could do was get between Ron and their daughter and pray to whoever might be listening that he missed because he was drunk._

_The gods were with her because after staring her down for a moment, the wizard lowered his wand and stormed out of the house. Hermione heard the sound of apparition and her knees gave way. She crumpled to the floor, crying as hard as Rose was. Afraid he would come back, she didn’t stay there long, but got to her feet, put Rose into the carrier on her chest and packed as much as she could quickly, magically reduced into her Hogwarts trunk and beaded bag before leaving for her parents’ house._

Hermione covered her face with her hands and sobbed. She cried because she hadn’t been strong enough to stand up to Ron sooner, cried for being ashamed to tell Harry and cried for her daughter who had a father who didn’t love her. She turned blindly toward Lucius who put his arms around her and held her close. He looked at Harry over her head and Ginny could feel the wizards’ magics buzz angrily.

“Guys,” she said quietly, when the lights blinked. “You need to calm down. This isn’t helping Hermione.”

Both of them nodded, knowing they were in agreement with their feelings and Harry moved from his chair to crouch down beside Hermione. He put his hand on her back.

“Do you want to file charges against him?” he asked softly.

She shook her head, which was buried in Lucius’ chest.

“Because he’s an Auror, I still have to file a report,” Harry told her. “Will you let me have the memory to put in it? That way if you change your mind, you won’t have to give it to me then.”

Hermione straightened up and used Lucius’ handkerchief to wipe her face. She looked at Ginny, who was wiping her own eyes and then turned to Harry.

“Yes, I’ll give it to you. Will he lose his job?” 

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “I’m not his supervisor. But I’m sure he’ll be put on desk duty and required to undergo an evaluation. Hermione, I wish you had told me about this before Rose was born. You don’t have to fix everything yourself all the time, you know.”

He offered her a knowing smile and she threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over.

Hermione gave Harry the memory from that night and promised to let him know if Ron came to her flat or tried to contact her. Then she and Lucius returned to her home, and Harry to the Ministry to file his report. Lucius had said little the entire time they were at Harry and Ginny’s and throughout Hermione’s disclosure. He wanted to hunt down the red headed wanker and hex his balls off for starters, and then subject him to a few choice curses he’d learned under the tutelage of his former house guest from a decade earlier. But the Lucius Malfoy that the witch in her kitchen currently making tea had gotten involved with didn’t do those kinds of things anymore. He was thinking about how to broach his thoughts on what she had shared when she called his name sharply. 

“Lucius! Come here!”

It didn’t come from the kitchen, but from the bathroom. When he got to the door, she was looking at the mirror over the sink. The article from the newspaper was hanging on it. The words **_DEATH EATER WHORE_ ** was printed over her photo. Hermione began to tremble.

“He was here, Lucius. Ron was here! How did he get in?” her voice was shrill with panic.

The wizard cursed under his breath.

“Don’t touch anything,” he barked. “We have to tell Potter.”

“B-but he went to the M-Ministry and only employees can get in on w-weekends.” 

Her teeth began to chatter; she was now shaking so violently it was making her ill. Ron had been in her flat. The one place she had made hers and felt safe.

“Send him a patronus,” Lucius ordered. 

She pulled out her wand, but her fear and trembling made her unable to produce the otter. Lucius led her from the bathroom and back to the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.

“Calm down, darling. You’re safe,” he said, his voice gentler. “As long as you’re with me, you’re safe. I won’t let him harm you. Or Rose.”

He kissed her temple, cheek and then her lips and her trembling began to slow. Hermione returned the kiss, allowing the warm feeling he created in her to calm and soothe her. Lucius turned her in his arms so her back was against his chest and her arms free but still held her close.

“Try the spell again,” he said into her ear, then pressed his cheek against her hair, focusing his magic on hers.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” she said and this time the silver otter materialized. “Ron was in my flat while we were at your house. Please come right away.”

When she was finished speaking it swam out the window and she turned back around in Lucius’ embrace, burying her face in his chest for the second time that morning. When she felt calmer, Hermione lifted her head and noticed for the first time that day what he was wearing. The day he stopped by when she and Rose were sick Hermione thought she had seen casual Lucius but this topped even that. He had on jeans again, but his shirt was a Henley with a half of the buttons undone, giving her a peek at chest hair that was darker than she expected. A glance at his feet and she half expected to see trainers. No, he wore loafers that probably cost half her monthly rent payment, she thought. But no socks. She looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“No socks?”

If discussing his wardrobe would keep her feeling safe, then Lucius would gladly detail every piece of clothing he owned, he thought. He finished making the tea she’d started and gave her a cup, sitting next to her at the table.

“If you must know,” he told her; his tone supercilious but his eyes twinkling with amusement,” I was reading the paper in my pyjamas and when I saw that piece of libelous Hippogriff dung and got dressed as quickly as I could to come here and see you. I didn’t take time to find hosiery.”

He extended a leg to show her his uncovered ankle. 

“It’s fashionable isn’t it? For men to go without?”

It actually was, but Hermione thought the wizard beside her would be the last to succumb to that particular fad. Before she could reply, there was a pop of apparition from her backyard. She leapt to her feet, wand at the ready. Lucius stood as well, his own wand in hand.

“I’ll go see. It’s probably just Potter,” he said and walked from the room, returning a moment later with the Auror on his heels, his robes swirling around his legs.

Hermione sighed with relief and stowed her wand. 

“What do you mean Ron got in here, Hermione?”

“He got in somehow, Harry. I don’t know how he did it. But he - he left a note in the bathroom,” she told him, her voice trembling slightly.

“I’ll show him. You stay here,” Lucius told her and Hermione gratefully sat back down in her chair. She didn’t want to see that writing again. It was bold, angry and written in red, reminding her all too much of the messages that had been written on the walls of the castle during their second year.

“Fuck it all!” Harry shouted and Hermione heard the sound of glass breaking. 

“You’d better repair that!” she called lightly and heard him laugh.

When he and Lucius appeared a few minutes later, the newspaper clipping was encased in a charm to protect any evidence on it. Harry had it in one hand and was flexing his other one.

“Do you need me to heal it?” Hermione asked.

“Lucius took care of it,” he replied. “I did fix the mirror. Sorry. I just --”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t know how he got in here. We’ll do a whole sweep of your wards on Monday. But you shouldn’t stay here. Evidence and if he --”

“Hermione will come home with me,” Lucius asserted.

Surprise flickered across Harry’s face for a moment. He looked between the two of them and then spoke.

“So this is a - a thing you two have going on? Ginny asked me and I said I didn’t know. I mean, I saw you with Rose last night, Lucius, and she seemed very comfortable with you.”

“She is,” Hermione said with a smile, standing up beside him. “Lucius is wonderful with her.”

She looked at the wizard and Harry saw something on her face he’d never seen when she looked at Ron. Lucius put his arm lightly around her waist.

“Right then,” said the Auror. “Um, I don’t know what time the evidence and ward teams will be here tomorrow. How can I reach you?”

Lucius pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Harry. It had his London physical address and floo address on it, his Longbottom Industries email address, and, Hermione noticed, a mobile number.

“You have a mobile?” 

She and Harry asked the question in unison. Lucius pulled a slight face at their surprise.

“I only use it when I’m in London and when I travel for business in Muggle areas,” he explained. “For instance, it wouldn’t work here.”

“No, of course not,” Hermione agreed. “There’s too much magical interference here.”

“Very good, then,” Harry said in what Hermione had started to think of as his Auror voice. “I’ll be in touch some time tomorrow when everything is complete here.”

“Okay. Thank you, Harry,” she said, stepping forward and hugging him for the second time that day.

“I just wish it wasn’t necessary,” he replied somberly.

Once Harry had gone back to the Ministry, Hermione turned to the wizard who had said little this entire morning.

“Can we please go to your flat now? It gives me the creeps thinking he was here.”

“Of course. Pack a bag and we can go,” Lucius said.

She held up her beaded bag which she had taken to Harry and Ginny’s.

“I always have enough for two nights in this. Old habits.”

Lucius’ eyebrows rose.

“In that bag?”

In spite of everything that had happened, Hermione was able to smile at being able to surprise him.

“Undetectable extension charm,” she said in a stage whisper and he threw his head back and laughed.

“Of course,” he said. “I should expect nothing less.”

Lucius held out his arms.

“Then let’s away.”

Hermione stepped into his embrace and moments later they were in his spacious flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some chocolate. 🍫🍫🍫 It helps, it really does.
> 
> I know that we who ship Hermione with other people than Ron have a laugh over Ron-bashing and sometimes he's just a mild ass and other times people have written him, as I have here, a complete, utterly disgusting piece of Hippogriff dung. (And that's insulting Buckbeak, to be honest) But real domestic violence isn't funny and neither are women who are afraid to leave a relationship and tell their friends and family they need help. Hermione is usually portrayed as strong and able to ask for and get what she wants. In this case she thought she could fix Ron and was ashamed to admit she was afraid and needed help. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and all the wonderful comments! 😘 Just remember, I always provide a happy ending!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 is written and I'll get it posted in a day or two. I'm taking my mom for her first COVID vaccination tomorrow (03/05) and it's my daughter's 19th birthday. But if I get a moment I'll try and get it added for you. In the meantime, please let my know what you liked.


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